


Adrift

by Imminent_Em



Series: Gathering Ice [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Drama, Excitement!, F/M, Mystery, Slow Burn, and now for some action, calm down, no not that kind of action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:50:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8780296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imminent_Em/pseuds/Imminent_Em
Summary: An island of stillness builds itself around him. He's lost, on merciless waters that leave him stranded without a shore in sight. There is nothing to catch hold of, and so he drifts; until a pounding on old wood brings him from his reverie, the stillness shattered.





	1. Chapter 1

After a month and a half, life in Sanctuary began to settle into a kind of routine for Nick and Nora. If the sun was out, so were they; there might not be any fields to work in at the moment, but the coming of winter didn't mean the work stopped. The small settlement wasn't lacking for good position and natural defenses. However, even with the river as a barrier, there was still plenty to shore up, improve, and add onto. Nora found herself enjoying the work. It was easy enough, even if it was exhausting. The ice was thick over everything, and the snow piled high, making anything they set out to work on take twice as long. These days began with her and Nick carving out a path from the door, and ended in a mutual collapse by the radiator.

  
A day of good weather such as that was becoming fewer and farther between, however. The storms had grown steadily more frequent over the past few weeks, blacking out entire days at a time. During these, there was nothing to do but hunker down and wait it out. The darkness was persistent, the wind howling endlessly. It numbed the mind, the senses, and made every minute spent trapped in the four walls of her new home feel like an interminable eternity. Nick had chuckled dryly when she had started pacing early on. “Don't worry, doll. You'll get used to it soon enough.” Despite his reassurances, though, she still felt stir crazy every time a storm descended on Sanctuary.

  
It wasn't that she didn't appreciate or like Nick's company. They had taken to reading aloud to each other in turns from the tiny collection of books Codsworth, by some miracle, had been able to keep intact over the course of the last 200 years. Unfortunately, the majority of the books were either textbooks left over from law school or treatises on the same subject - although, when they had finally caved and begun trudging through the dry material, it had sparked several interesting conversations regarding the practice of law both then, and now in the Commonwealth. Nora had never really had the opportunity to discuss the concepts of Law and Justice with someone who enforce them, and Nick was the perfect conversation partner - a detective both pre-and post war. It helped the days pass decently well, and Nora admitted in the quiet of her mind that she could easily listen to Nick read her old textbooks aloud for a solid week.

  
When they weren't reading, they played cards, Nick taking the opportunity to teach her some of the games that had developed since she been asleep, including an annoyingly confounding game that Nick said he learned from a trader who had come out of the west nearly 10 years ago. If they weren't playing cards, Nora tinkered with her gun, Nick occasionally pointing something out or giving quiet suggestions while he worked on his own projects.

  
It wasn't that Nora didn't love this quiet intimacy that they were sharing. Because she absolutely did; the nervous tension from a month or so ago had dissipated almost in its entirety, and while there was still something of its shadow between the two of them, they managed to avoid the topic. And life felt…normal, or close to it, despite being trapped in the clutches of constant radioactive blizzards. Whatever it was that had changed between them, they had adapted. Things felt good between them again; comfortable and close, like it'd been all autumn as they traveled the Commonwealth.

  
But as the stretches of darkness grew and the snows piled higher, Nora felt a growing unease. As the season wore on, she felt more and more isolated, no matter what company she kept. There was so much she needed to be out there doing, and here she was stuck in an out of the way settlement, whiling away the majority of her days reading up on now irrelevant laws. She felt like she was adrift on open waters, whether the ocean was a green storm so dark it was almost black, or a dazzling expanse of white; either way, she was cast loose without a mooring or a shore in sight. It was intensely frustrating, unable to act in any meaningful way; and it was the true source of Nora’s quiet impatience with the constant storms. She needed something to do - anything at this point, as long as it got her out of Sanctuary for a day, a few hours, at the least. Without something meaningful to a occupy her, Nora felt she might not be able to take the endless howling for much longer.

  
***

  
A few more steps, nearly breathless in the frigid air, and Abernathy Farm hove into view, laid out before them and as picturesque as could be from the small rise. Nick paused at the top, catching back his breath and turning to lend a hand to Nora as she struggled through the snow, even with the path he’s forged. She took it graciously, using the leverage to haul herself up in one last step. Once beside him, she tugged down her scarf from her nose and mouth to better pull in the air. They took in the sight for a moment, then Nora shook her head and let out a small sigh. “Jesus.” She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare. “You can see the damage from here.”

  
Nick grunted in agreement, folding his arms against the cold. An entire corner of the tower that made up the main building of Abernathy Farm had been shattered, looking for all the world as if a giant had stepped on it. More likely, yesterday’s storm had picked up something heavy and smashed into a weak point in the corner, tearing open a hole and letting the winds widen it.

  
Nick took in the view for a moment more, then said, “It looks pretty bad from here doll, I agree; but it's probably not as dire as appearances would have you believe.”

  
Nora shot him a look that was half skepticism, half hope. “You really think so?”

  
He huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Trust me doll; when you've worked as Diamond City’s main handyman for a good 20 years, you start to figure a few things out.” Nick gestured at the damage. “Whatever it was that tore through there, it doesn't look like it hit anything load bearing. Should be just a patch job; easy enough, provided they've got the materials.” He quirked up his mouth at Nora. “I suspect we're just here to do the heavy lifting.”

  
Nora smiled back at him, all chapped lips and flushed cheeks, and practically felt his heart stutter. “That doesn't sound too bad.” She looked out over the Farm again. “Which is a relief. I'll admit, what with Lucy coming over first thing this morning, I was a bit worried. I mean, she looked worried; but I suppose she was just in a hurry.”

  
Nick frowned. He'd made the exact same assumption as Nora, now that she brought it up. Lucy Abernathy had been a tad vague on the details when she had blown through Sanctuary that morning. She had seemed worried when she asked Nora for help, citing storm damage at the Farm before rushing off to catch up to Trashcan Carla, who'd left Sanctuary last night as soon as the storm had dissipated - although, why she was chasing after the trader, she hadn't said. Nick supposed Nora might be right. They could have misinterpreted Lucy’s hurry as more worry than the situation actually warranted. But something about it didn't sit right.

  
Nick was pulled from his stray thoughts by the sight of a lone figure on the porch waving to them. Nora nudged Nick and waved back, saying, “I think that must be Blake.” She glanced at him, adding, “And stop worrying. He and his family are good people.” She started down the low hill toward the boundary fence of the Farm, Nick lagging behind her for a few moments. He believed her; he really did, but he'd had too many folks turn him and any help he offered away once they clapped eyes on his mug. It was one of the realities he'd become used to out here, every chance meeting and encounter a coin toss between some degree of reluctant tolerance or outright hatred. All the time that he and Nora had traveled together, and they'd only talked to people who'd already met him. He wasn't sure how she would take it if this ended badly; but there was no point in postponing the inevitable. He made his way down after her, catching up in a few long strides.

  
As they got closer, the figure resolved, into what was indeed Blake Abernathy, who stepped off the porch and waded through the snow to meet them at the gate. Once they were within speaking distance, he tipped his hat at Nora. “Nice to see you again, dearie, as always. Wish the circumstances were more on the pleasant side, but that can't be helped.” He turned to Nick and held out his handsome shake, peering under the fedora. “And I don't believe we've -” He stopped quite suddenly, his eyebrows furrowing, and Nick braced himself for the usual reaction to his glowing eyes and torn-up excuse of a face. But just as abruptly as Blake had stopped himself, he burst into a sunny, if incredulous, smile. “Mister Valentine?” He grabbed Nick’s hand and shook it earnestly, Nick thanking whatever lucky stars he had that he'd thought to wear gloves today. “It is you. I didn't recognize you at all without the detective get-up. You haven't ditched it altogether, I hope?”

  
Nick returned Nora's sidelong glance, shaking his head minutely at her unspoken question while he answered Blake’s aloud. “Only for the winter. I've got to keep the cold out, same as the rest of you.”

  
Blake chuckled warmly. “That's good to hear. Although,” he said, eyeing Nick’s current coat, “if I remember rightly, your usual one was becoming more patch than coat the last time I glimpsed it. You may want to consider changing over.” He smiled wryly at that, sticking his bare hands into his own coat pockets. “I heard you were out at Sanctuary for the winter, but I didn't think you’d come aboard to help with our construction problem.”

  
Nick tried collecting himself well enough to answer. “Well, we heard you had a spot of damage…and…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “I'm sorry to be blunt, Mr. Abernathy, but have we met before?”

  
Blake rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly abashed. “Sorry. I should've known you wouldn’t remember me. We met once, in passing, in the Marketplace in Diamond City.” He shrugged and offered a small smile. “I see you every now and then, on the rare occasion I get out to the City, and we hear stories when traders come through, that's all.”

  
It was Nick's turn to feel embarrassed. “I guess I should be the one apologizing now. You just...threw me off for a second there.” He aimed a quick glance at Nora, and thank God, the woman could take a hint. She shifted forward, the slight step just enough to draw Blake’s attention to her. “Lucy told us you needed help with repairs?”

  
Blake’s face immediately took on a more serious cast. “We sure do. I'm not the sort of fellow to ask for help, but…” He gestured at the corner of the building. “As you can see, it's not exactly a leaking roof.”

  
Nick huffed out a laugh. “Only in the barest sense of the words.”

  
Blake’s eyes crinkled with mirth. “Well, like all leaks, it's fixable.” He waved for them to follow and began trudging through the snow towards the damage. “And I've got plenty of material stowed away; Connie and I just need help with -” He paused to glance at them, then shook his head. “Well, you'll see.”

  
They rounded the corner, and Nick let out a low whistle. Behind him, he heard Nora mutter something along the lines of “Damn lucky”.

  
Nick had been right; the damage wasn't as bad as it looked. For all the shattered wood and gaping hole, nothing had been damaged that impugned on the integrity of the structure. But he could immediately see why Blake had sent over Lucy for help.

  
Nora turned to the two of them with an arched eyebrow. “A tree? A tree did this?”

  
Nick folded his arms and chanced a small grin at her almost befuddled expression. “Well, unless you see another culprit laying around, I think it's probably safe to assume so.”

  
Her face softened even as she mock-glared at him. “Very funny, Mister Detective.” She looked back at the tree lounging in the midst of the damage, and a note of concern crept into her voice. “I just wasn't aware that this kind of thing happened regularly.”

  
Blake chimed in. “It actually doesn't, thank heavens.” He shook his head again. “Damndest thing, isn't it? Going on twenty years Connie and I have been living out here, and we’ve never had this kind of problem.”

  
Nora stuck her hands in her pockets, still looking a tad worried. “I didn't realize the winds were this strong though.”

  
Nick coughed softly. “If I had to hazard a guess, they weren't. Not strong enough to uproot a tree anyhow, if that's what you were thinking.” He pointed out a couple sections. “See how it started coming apart when it impacted the building? I'd say this tree had already started rotting, which means that it was likely fallen over before the storm came. And it looks decently young, too.” Nick eyed Blake. “You're lucky it wasn't any larger. This could've been a lot worse.”

  
Blake nodded seriously. “And don't I know it. Thought the world was ending all over again when it came crashing through.” He stared at the wreck for a moment, then pulled himself out of the momentary daze. “In any case, we mostly just need extra hands to haul this thing out of the way so we can fix this mess before the next storm hits.”

  
Nick and Nora exchanged a quick look. “Not to pry or anything, but if that's the case,” Nora said slowly, “then shouldn't Lucy be here too?” She looked around, as if noticing something for the first time. “And for that matter, where's Connie?”

  
Blake’s brow furrowed. “Don't worry about them, they've-” he stopped himself and seemed to consider something; after a moment though, he shook his head. “They're dealing with something else.”

  
Nick kept an eye on Nora, waiting to see if she pushed it. She seemed to be chewing on her tongue to keep the questions in, but she dropped it. Probably for the best, too; Nick was as curious as the next fella, but it was obvious Blake didn't want to discuss whatever was going on. He'd already come to them practically hat in hand, and it was difficult for a man as proud as Abernathy seemed to be to ask for more help before they'd even started the first job.

  
Nick tugged at his gloves, adjusting the right one so it didn't slip off while they worked. “Well alright then. Who’s ready to haul a tree?”

  
***

  
A familiar bark pulled Nora’s attention away from their work, and she squinted into the glaring afternoon sun to see Preston and Dogmeat coming down the rise. She waved quickly, then turned and hammered in the nail she’d had poised. Once done, she clambered down the rickety ladder

  
Dogmeat bounded over, tail waving through the air like a flag, and jumped up at her, all hot tongue and wet nose. Before she could even fight him off properly, he sprang away and leapt at Nick instead, nearly bowling him over. Nick fared about the same as she had, and he barely got out a “Now look here boy,” when Dogmeat finished and pranced over to Blake, who had just come around the corner to see what the commotion was.

  
“Is this your mutt?” He had a bit of a smile tugging at his mouth as he said it; Dogmeat in turn sat down politely, letting him scratch behind the ears before he jumped up again to trot back over to Nora. She sighed, grinning, and answered. “Yeah, he's mine. Much good that he does me.” Dogmeat gave her a mournful look, and she rolled her eyes back at him. “I'm kidding, sweetie. You're a wonderful dog, aren't you? Always a good boy, even when you aren't.” Dogmeat wagged even harder, catching bits of snow with his tail and flinging it out to either side, and pressed himself against her leg.

  
Blake crossed his arms and sighed wistfully. “What I wouldn't give for a dog like that.”

  
Nick finished brushing mud and snow off the front of his coat and piped up. “I heard a while back that there was a man selling dogs somewhere around these parts. Damned if I heard his name though, or even where he lives.”

  
Blake smiled ruefully. “I've heard the same rumors. Put the word out with some of the traders that I was looking to buy, but nothing's come of it so far. Guess we’ll just have to make do.”

  
Preston finally reached them at that point, slightly out of breath. Nora grinned at him in greeting. “Glad you made it over Preston, but I think you've managed to miss all the action.”

  
He cast an appreciative eye over the remains of the tree they’d spent most of the morning pulling out of the house, piled up with the remains of the wall it had destroyed. “Missed the action is right, Ma’am. Looks like you've got a lot done.”

  
She glanced at the walls they’d thrown up, the sheet metal shiny against the mostly wood building. “Yeah, I think we’ve done a pretty decent job. Not that I can really take credit for it.” She looked back at Preston and crooked a smile. “Nick and Blake here get all the props. I just did what they told me.”

  
At the mention of his name, Blake came forward and shook Preston’s hand. “It's good to see you again, Garvey. You and Nora have done a real bang-up job getting the Minutemen back on their feet.”

  
Preston shook his head. “I'm glad you think so, sir, but we’ve only just started getting the word out to settlements. We've got a long way to go before the Minutemen are anything like they were in the old days.”

  
Blake patted Preston on the shoulder. “Don't worry son. You'll get there, even if it feels like every step takes an eternity. No matter how small, the good you two do,” he paused and looked at Nora seriously. “It means a hell of a lot, you hear?” He clapped Preston on the arm again and started off around the building. “I'll be back in a bit; just gotta lend a hand to the missus.”

  
Dogmeat pushed off of her leg and started wandering over the fields, sniffing idly at the ground. Nora nodded in his direction. “How’s Dogmeat been treating you?”

  
Preston chuckled, tugging at the strap holding his rifle over his shoulder. “Decently well. He's been putting me through my paces though. Sometimes it's hard to know who’s leading who around here.” He shrugged, smiling. “Not that I mind. He's a better partner than a lot I've worked with in the past.”

  
Nora laughed at his description. “That he is. Although,” she arched an eyebrow at Preston teasingly. “I feel as if I ought to be getting a bit jealous. He seems to have taken a real liking to you.”

  
“Well, I wouldn't worry too much. That dog seems awful attached to you, General. And he's certainly got a mind of his own; I doubt he'll be going anywhere soon.” Preston tugged at his rifle strap again and nodded towards the remains of the tree. “So it looks like you two had a heck of a job to keep yourselves busy today. I'm surprised Lucy went chasing after Carla instead of staying to help.” He looked between them, confused as she and Nick exchanged knowing glances. Nora felt a small shift in her chest. It wasn't just them; something was off. “What'd I say?”

  
Nick answered. “Nothing, nothing. That just seems to be the question of the day, is all.” He pulled his battered silver lighter from a pocket and began patting down his coat for a cigarette. “That, and what Connie’s been dealing with all day that's kept her from helping out with the damage to her own house.” Upon finding a cigarette, he flicked open the lighter and lit it in the smooth motions of a man who’d been doing it for the last 200 years. Nick tucked away his lighter and offered it to her. Nora relented after a moment, and took a small drag, hoping the nicotine would cut away at the exhaustion from the day’s work. She offered it back to Nick, who continued. “Whatever this is, it's got them worried. I'd normally press the issue a bit more, but…” He shrugged. “Abernathy seems to be the sort who wouldn't take well to it. Better to let him come to the table of his own accord.”

  
Preston nodded slowly, looking worried but resigned. “You're probably right. I've gotten to know Blake over the past few months, and he's a stubborn one. He’ll ask for help only when he’s good and ready. Frankly, I'm surprised he even asked for help with this.”

  
Nick looked like he was mulling something over, but he answered Preston absentmindedly anyway. “So am I, but it was a bigger job than most; it's not unreasonable to think he just needed some extra hands.” He took a long drag, then looked up at Preston curiously. “Say, did you happen to see any sign of Lucy on your way over? From the way Abernathy was talking earlier, I expected her to be back hours ago.”

  
Preston eyed Nick with something close to surprise. “I did, actually. I ran into her at the Red Rocket station on my way over. She must've gotten what she needed, because she to be in a bit more of a hurry than usual.” He shifted his weight, scuffing at the ground with a boot. “I chalked it up to her wanting to get back here, but there might've been more to it, now that I think back. We walked over together, but she outstripped me just before we got to the hill.”

  
Nick made a low noise in his throat and considered the ground, cigarette dangling idly in his gloved fingers. Nora, not sure where he was going with the questions, turned her attention back to Garvey. “You mean to tell me a teen girl outstripped you? How fast was she going?”

  
Preston bore out under her teasing with his usual good grace. “I think it's more a question of how slow I was going, Ma’am, thanks to a certain dog that kept getting distracted. I don't know what got into him, to be honest. But I guess it doesn't matter. We got here in good time, despite the minor detour.”

  
Nora was about to answer when Nick piped up again, still sounding somewhat distracted. “Preston, did it seem like she-”

  
Nick was cut off by the sound of shouting. They all turned, looking past the building, where the sound seemed to emanate. After the briefest of moments, Nick was the first to break into action, stamping his cigarette into the snow and taking off at a sprint around the building. Nora and Preston followed, trying to keep up with Nick’s long stride.

  
As they rounded the corner, the shouting rang out clearer in the cold air, coming from the small barn that the Abernathy’s kept for their Brahmin. Nick was tugging at his coat as he ran, opening it so he had better access to his hand cannon. Nora caught her fingers on the button of her thigh holster, cursing that she had left her rifle in the Abernathy’s kitchen while they worked. Preston overtook her as Nick reached the barn doors and ducked in, kicking it open a little farther as he passed through. She and Preston weren't far behind, and she put on extra speed when she came close enough to hear a familiar low growl.

  
Nora wasn't quite sure what she was expecting as she burst into the barn on Preston’s heels, but it wasn't the scene that awaited her. The Abernathy’s three Brahmin looked to have been huddled together on the ground, judging by the disturbed blankets; however, two of them had charged off into the far corner, lowing continuously, their eyes rolling nervously. The third remained on the ground making quieter noises, but giving no indication of going anywhere. Connie Abernathy knelt next to it, one hand making soothing motions on its mottled hide as she glared up at her daughter. Lucy was squared off between her father and Dogmeat, who was keeping a rumbling growl, and for good reason; clutched in Lucy’s hand was a beaten old pipe gun, that, though not pointed right at Dogmeat, was still aimed in his general direction. Nora didn't hear what Blake had said to her, but she caught the tail end of Lucy’s response. “...don't care Dad, it needs to get out of here, now.”

  
Blake looked relieved when Nora came charging in. “Thank goodness. Nora, can you call off your dog?”

  
Nora felt a small fire kindling in her chest, hot and angry. “I'll call him off when your daughter stops aiming a gun at him.” She turned her glare onto Lucy, who almost immediately lowered the gun, a guilty expression stealing over her. Nora felt herself relax as she put it away; without a word from her, Dogmeat uncoiled as well, hackles and fur lowering as the growling ceased. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nick pull his hand back out of his coat and readjust it casually, fiddling with his right hand glove. Even the Brahmin in the corner seemed to feel the tension leave the room, their lowing becoming less urgent.

  
Nora turned back to Blake. “Anyone care to explain what's going on here?” Blake crossed his arms and glared at Lucy, who was acquiring a ruddy look to her cheeks as everyone's attention became directed at her. She met Nora’s eyes though, as she said, “I'm sorry for all the confusion, Miss Nora. I just - I was tending to Annie, and my Dad came to talk to us, and he must've left the door open, because then I saw your dog come through the door. Annie saw him and started panicking, and then I thought he was a wild dog, so I pulled out my gun and…he was growling and it was scaring the Brahmin and...” She finally dropped her gaze to the floor, rubbing at her forearm sheepishly. Her next words were quiet. “I'm sorry I almost shot your dog, ma’am.”

  
Apparently satisfied with his daughter’s apology, Blake offered his own. “I am sorry about that, Nora. I'm glad you got here when you did. I wasn't sure if that dog of yours had gotten offended and decided to take a bite out of someone. He looked ready to pounce.”

  
Nora bristled a bit at that. “Yeah, that tends to be his reaction when people threaten him for no reason. He's a smart dog.” Upon hearing the praise, Dogmeat wagged happily, oblivious now to the context as his tail thumped steadily on the ground.

  
Blake had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed. “Like I said, I'm sorry. Anything I can do for you, just name it. It's the least I can offer; especially after you helped me all day, just to have this mix-up happen.”

  
Nora was about to politely wave off his offer when Nick spoke from her side. “Actually, you could start by clueing us in on what's going on here.” His voice was low and firm; it was the one he used on prospective clients, or when he wasn't sure of the situation. It was the one he had used on her, months ago at the start of all this. It was the voice that told you to start at the beginning, and leave nothing out.

  
Unexpectedly, it was Connie who answered the question, while her husband was still in the mental throes of debating how to answer. “The Brahmin are sick.” She looked up from where she knelt, her face earnest. The simple statement said almost nothing, but covered everything Nora needed to know about how important this was. It was all in the woman’s voice.

  
“How sick?” Preston asked from behind her.

  
Connie kept her eyes on Nora as she answered. “Very sick.” She nodded at the Brahmin by her side. “I don't think Lenna here is going to last the night.”

  
Lucy added, “And the other two aren't doing well either. They might seem ok right now, but that's just cause they're scared. They're just like Lenna was a couple days ago.”

  
Nora took in the pale faces of the Abernathy family and felt a growing suspicion. “So...just how bad is this?”

  
Blake looked a little askance at the question, and Preston leaned in to explain. “You're not from...around here, so it may not seem like a lot, but trust me: it's bad. If they lose all three of their Brahmin at once, they lose everything.”

  
“We trade milk and cheese to the traders when they pass through. Their manure helps keep the soil in growing conditions. And if things get bad, we can slaughter one for food in the winter.” Connie shook her head. “It's taken us 14 years to get to where we are. If we lose them -” her voice caught, and she shook her head again. “Without them, we’ll have to start from almost nothing.”

  
“And they'll have nothing to fall back on if times get tough.” Preston added. “It's pretty bad.”

  
“So this is what you've been avoiding talking about all day.” Nick said. He was considering the family thoughtfully from under his fedora. “Why you didn't bring out the Brahmin to help move the tree, like most folks would. And that's what you sent Lucy out for.”

  
As Blake nodded, Nora frowned. “Am I missing something here?”

  
“I went after Carla to see if she had any dried bloodleaf,” Lucy said. “It was a bit of a long shot, but she usually has it.” She nodded at the bucket next to Connie, which Nora belatedly noticed had a reddish tinge to the water. “Guess we got lucky.”

  
Connie winced. “Don't know if we’re lucky yet, dear. Even if it works, it still might be too late for Lenna.”

  
Nora shook her head. “I still don't understand.”

  
“Bloodleaf’s a powerful painkiller and sedative in its own right; mix it together with hubflower, and it'll fight off most infections and fevers, if you're lucky enough to be granted time.” Nick looked up at her. “Works better fresh but, well.” He gestured out the door. “Not really the season for it.”

  
He tapped his fingers against his thigh in a soft cadence. It was a moment before he spoke again. “Do you know what it is?”

  
Connie answered. “We have no idea. They haven't been attacked by anything, as far as we know. They certainly don't have any bite or claw marks that could've gotten infected. And their grain is the same stock we eat from, so it's not that.”

  
Blake and Connie shared a long look. With a polite cough, Blake began, “Look, folks, I know I have no right to ask anything from you. I'm sure you've got your own troubles, but if you could…” He trailed off and looked down, rubbing his palms a bit nervously against his pants. “I admit, I'm a proud man. Like I told you this morning, I don't like asking for help, but I'm not too proud to recognize when I need it.” He looked up at Nora, his gaze earnest. “So I'm asking for your help, ma’am; anything you can do would be a blessing.”

  
Nick made a rough humming noise in the back of his throat, almost as if he was pleased with himself for figuring out the puzzle. “So, a mysterious illness, with no clear cause.” He eyed the Brahmin. “And a time limit to find, what?” Nick looked over at Blake. “Either something to help, or the cause of it?” When Blake nodded, he switched his gaze back to the unfortunate Lenna. “Well, what do you think, doll?”

  
It took her a moment to realize he was addressing her. Nora looked over at Nick, golden eyes caught in a thoughtful expression. She could feel the anticipation bubbling up in her chest. Something to do, finally. A chance to be useful, to do something meaningful. She crooked a small smile at Nick when his eyes met hers. From the set of his shoulders, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes, she could tell he felt the same. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a case.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dusk found the group settled around the Abernathy’s table. A mismatched array of lanterns had been lit around the room, casting a soft glow onto everything nearby, broken only by deepening shadows that crept further in the lower the sun set. Nick's eyes seemed unusually bright in the gloom, lost in thought as he stared over his hands, gloves dark against the skin of his face. Preston sat off to the side, leaning against the wall with his musket, cradling a chipped mug of hubflower tea. Nora wasn't sure of the extent to which he was paying attention to the proceedings - or lack of them, rather; his hat was tipped low over his eyes, and his breaths came slow and deep. But every now and then, he would shift, lifting his head ever so slightly, take a sip from his mug and casually scan the room.

 

Dogmeat was curled up next to the stove in a heap of fluffy fur. His dark eyes glittered as he watched the room, chin resting on his paws. Nora sat where she could just see him over the table, next to Nick and across the table from Blake and Connie; the two had decided to relegate Lucy to Brahmin-care duty, partly in punishment for almost shooting a guests’ dog, and partly to give her mother a break. She had been subdued all throughout dinner, the remains of which were still on the table. Nora had been mollified by the girl’s apologies, but she still felt a flicker of anger in her chest. The encounter had left her on edge. The wave of panic that had surged through her when she'd seen Dogmeat being threatened - by a friend, no less - had been so sudden and intense, she'd been practically breathless. She hadn't been expecting danger today, and she couldn't help but feel as if her unpreparedness had very nearly cost Dogmeat his life. If she had been just a little bit slower, she might've missed the chance to intervene.

 

And she had been slow, compared to Nick and Preston. It rankled her, in a way; all the hard work she had thrown into getting better, faster, and she was still too slow. But then again, Nora supposed, years of surviving in the Commonwealth worked to forge a person into something more durable and deadly. It probably wasn't an apt comparison to match herself against her companions. Even so, it was disquieting to realize how much work was still ahead of her.

 

Nora could forgive Lucy her anxiety over the Brahmin, however, especially after seeing the entire family pick listlessly at the meal. The fare was simple, but it wasn't by any means unappetizing. Nora had long since given up being picky about Commonwealth food, and had been rewarded with an appreciation for when it was done right. Razorgrain bread and pickled mutfruit was, according to Preston, pretty standard for a farm table, but Connie had obviously had years to make it the best it could be. That being said, the family had barely touched their portions, to the point where Nora had started feeling self-conscious as she ate.

 

The tension that had settled over the gathering during the past hour had become palpable. Aside from a few brisk and cursory questions, Nick had avoided any discussion of the matter. He looked like he was giving it some pretty serious thought; Nick had hardly moved throughout the course of the meal, except to absently run his fingers over Dogmeat as the dog sporadically wandered under and around the table. Nora could see he was just mulling the problem over, carefully and thoroughly, as he always did; she could also tell the wait was agony for the Abernathy's. The couple kept stealing glances at him and between themselves, and Connie had started fidgeting with the frayed edge of her shirtsleeve. It was obvious they wanted to hear a plan, or anything close to one. It was getting to the point where Nora was considering how to break the silence, before the Abernathy's had a collective anxiety attack.

 

Eventually, Nick did stir, blinking slowly and pulling himself out of whatever reverie he'd been lost in. The slight movement was what broke the suspense; it was like everyone had been holding their breath. Nick leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking in protest. “Frankly,” Nick began, “I'm not fully sure where to start with this.” Upon looking up and noticing Blake and Connie’s worried faces, he hurriedly added, “Not that I'm saying we won't help, of course. It's just difficult knowing where to begin, is all.”

 

Blake leaned forward, scratching at his stubble. “Anything you can do would be a tremendous help. If the brahmin…” He faltered for a moment, swallowing visibly, then continued quickly, clearly trying not to think too hard about the ‘if’. “If they get better, we can't have them getting sick all over again. If we know what caused this, then we can avoid it in the future.” He motioned with his hands, palms up. “Ask us anything you need to.”

 

Nora smothered a small cough and leaned in, ignoring the lingering scratch at the back of her throat. “Let's start from the beginning, and work our way out from there.” Out of the corner of her eye, Nora saw Nick’s eyes flick towards her, a small smile tugging at his mouth. She cleared her throat and continued with an inexplicable swell of satisfaction in her chest. “Have you changed anything recently? Feed? Water?”

 

The couple shook their heads, and Connie added, “We've been using the same well for the last nine years. Never had any problems with it. And like I said earlier, the feed is the same grain we eat. If something were in it, wouldn't we be sick too?”

 

“Not necessarily,” Nick said thoughtfully. “There are some things that affect livestock and not people. Or,” he added, his features darkening, “it could be that it just takes longer to show up in people. But I'd rather not worry about that yet.”

 

“If it's not the food or water supplies, then it's likely from a wild animal,” Nora supplied.

 

Nick fixed the Abernathy's with a steady gaze. “But you said you haven’t seen any injuries. Is it possible you missed something?”

 

Blake shook his head firmly. “That was the first thing we checked when Lenna came down with the fever. Gave all the girls a thorough check.”

 

“We've had it happen before,” Connie added. “Years ago, with our first brahmin. Molerat got into the barn. We got out there, fast as you please, chased it off and thought we were fine.” She winced. “Turns out we didn't check her out well enough. Caught a fever and died a few days later, before we even knew what was happening.” Connie met Nora’s eyes. “So we're real careful when we check.”

 

“If it's not from wild animals, and there's no problem here, then where did the brahmin catch a fever from?” The group at the table turned in surprise to look at Preston; he had barely moved in his spot in the shadowy corner, but he was looking up now, brown eyes reflecting the light of the lamps around the table. “Things like that don't just fall out of the blue sky.”

 

There was silence in the room for a minute. All eyes turned to her and Nick, expectant. For a brief moment, Nora felt an old irritation rise up, tightening in her jaw and chest. It was from her lawyer days; it had always irked her when everyone else expected her to have the answers. A hazard of the job, perhaps, but one that she'd never been good at ignoring. She took a steadying breath, and looked over to Nick.

 

The grizzled synth was rubbing at his jawline with his good hand, seemingly fixated on the grains in the wood table. Nora wondered idly if he ever had the same feeling. He was a detective, after all; if anyone could ever be expected to have all the answers, it would be someone who sought them out for a living.

 

Nick broke the spell after a minute or so, however, looking up sharply at the Abernathy's. “When Carla stops here, does she stay overnight?”

 

Nora perked up, straightening her spine. Something had clearly occurred to him. Blake glanced at his wife, obviously not sure where the question was heading. “Yeah, we offer her lodging when she comes ‘round. She stays all the time.”

 

Nick leaned forward. Nora wasn't sure what bolt of lightning had struck him, but he had the bit between his teeth now. “When she stays, does she stable her brahmin with yours?”

 

Preston spoke even before Connie had fully opened her mouth. “You think Carla’s Brahmin passed...well, whatever this is on to the other three?”

 

Blake eyed Nick, his expression growing troubled. “That could be it.” He shook his head slowly. “But her animal didn't look at all sick.”

 

“Doesn't have to,” Nick responded, a serious note in his voice. “It might have had it a while ago. Fever goes away, but the sickness stays on, infects others.”

 

Nora rubbed her forearms, suddenly chillier that the room’s temperature warranted. “If that's the case, then we'll have to catch up with Carla to find out.”

 

Nick nodded firmly. “It's probably our best bet.”

 

“Lucy said she was moving pretty slow with all this snow,” Connie said. “It shouldn't be too much trouble to overtake her.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” Nick glanced over to Nora, his eyes questioning, as if asking if she approved. She nodded back, and his gaze flicked to Connie. “Mind if we bunk her for the night, ma’am? It's a bit late to head back, and we’ll need an early start if we're to catch up with Carla.”

 

Connie shook her head as her husband stood up, chair scraping, to collect the dishes. “Of course I don't mind. We've got plenty of room in the back.” She got up as well. “I'll put some things together for you all, and then I’m heading out to the barn to help Lucy.”

 

She disappeared into the back rooms, and with Blake washing dishes behind a small partition, Preston, Nick and Nora were left in relative seclusion. Dogmeat wandered over to her side and licked her hand until she began petting his head, burrowing her cold fingers into his thick fur. Nick leaned back into his chair again with huff, rubbing his shoulder absently. “Well,” he began quietly, “I’m not sure I can say for certain this is my strangest case.” He nodded in Nora’s direction without even looking up, his tone almost teasing for a brief moment. “I think you still hold that honor, doll. But it certainly is unusual.” His hand dropped to his lap, where he started fidgeting with his gloves. “Can't say I've ever been hired to save livestock before.”

 

Preston frowned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, large hands toying with his empty mug. “It's a first for me as well. Usually we deal with problems outside the settlement.”

 

Nora looked between them, her hands still occupied with Dogmeat. “This kind of thing doesn't happen often?”

 

Preston shook his head, hearing the skepticism in her tone. “Brahmin are pretty hardy animals; they have to be, to survive out here.” He shrugged. “Not to say that it doesn't happen. Most fevers in livestock are from bad feed or animal attacks, though, like the Abernathy's said happened to them. There's a reason caravaneers use brahmin to haul. Strong, healthy, and hardy all in one package.”

 

The soft clinking of ceramic dishes in water could be heard from the other side of the partition. Nora shifted in her seat, suppressing another cough, and Dogmeat took the opportunity to curl up on the floor with a whuff of displaced air, dropping out of her reach. “I'm just worried we won't be able to actually help,” Nora eventually observed quietly.

 

“Now, don't go thinking like that, Nora,” Nick said seriously. “It's an inauspicious way to start off any case, even when your fears are founded.”

 

Nora shot Nick a look, slightly miffed. “I was a lawyer, Nick. Trust me; I know all about the importance of starting a case off in the proper frame of mind. I'm not despairing, I just…” She glanced anxiously at the partition that separated Blake from them. “I know that we'll do all we can to help, but at this point? There doesn't seem to be a whole lot we can do.”

 

Somewhere in the back of the house, a door thumped closed as Connie left for the barn. Nick tilted his head towards Nora. “You might be right, doll. The Abernathy's may have just stumbled into an eighteen karat run of bad luck here, and there may be nothing we can do to actually help them, besides try.” He leaned forward over the table then, his eyes intent on her. “But in the long run, we still have a mystery to solve. Something about this fever rubs me up the wrong way, and I intend to find out where it came from.”

 

Preston grunted quietly in affirmation. “And I'll be glad when you do. Folks have it bad enough right now as it is. The last thing we need is for a strange fever to start wiping it's way through the settlements.”

 

The cough that had been building its way up in Nora's chest finally broke free then, hoarse and wet and breathless. Nick leaned over, his metal fingers light and gentle on her shoulders through his glove. The fit was short and painful, as usual. Nora cleared her throat and answered the question before he could ask it. “I'm alright, Nick.” He raised a brow, clearly skeptical. “I swear, it's just the cold. It gets in my throat, always has; especially when we do heavy work, like today.”

 

Nick sat back, pacified. “If you say so, doll. Just say the word if you need a breather next time.”

 

Preston let out a chuckle as he stretched. “Well, I'd say you're the picture of health, General.” He stood, mug in hand. “But even so, we should probably get ourselves to bed. Like you said Nick, we've all got an early start tomorrow morning.”

 

Nora smiled up at him. “What is it, Preston? ‘Early to bed, early to rise’? Because I'll have you know, we lawyers don't hold with that sort of thinking.”

 

Nick coughed out a laugh, grinning genuinely for the first time that day. “I'm afraid detectives are usually of the same mindset in that regard. But perhaps we should make an exception tonight? It'll be a long day tomorrow.”

 

He pushed himself up from the table, and Nora followed suit, ignoring the stiffening muscles in her thighs and upper arms. Preston, after rolling his eyes to hide his confusion, wandered over to the other side of the partition to hand off his mug to Blake. Nora gathered up her scarf, gloves and hat, nudging Dogmeat lightly with her foot. He looked up at her mournfully, as if to communicate that he had just gotten comfortable and had no intentions of moving. She gestured with her chin to the back room that Nick was starting towards. “Come on, boy.” At her urging, he looked away, resigned, and got up, following Nick.

 

Preston joined her as they headed to the back, where Connie, true to her word, had laid out sleeping bags, a pile of pillows, and a stack of blankets. Nick handed her a couple, and Nora took the opportunity to marvel at the variety. One was a furry patchwork of soft hide, trimmed and stitched neatly at the edges to form a near-perfect square. Another was a thick handwoven piece - though from what it was woven, Nora couldn't say - done in an abstract pattern of soft purple that reminded her of hubflowers.

 

As they laid their things out, Preston spoke. “I'm going to head out in the morning for Sanctuary, if that's alright with you General.”

 

Nora looked up in surprise. “Are you sure? I thought you might want to help us with this.”

 

Preston shook his head. “I'm sure. Someone needs to let the folks up there know what's going on, and why you two aren't back yet.”

 

Nick appraised him. “Sound thinking. It wouldn't do to have them thinking we up and left them to the wolves.”

 

Preston smiled faintly. “My thoughts exactly. I'd love to help,” he added, looking back at Nora, “but there are folks back there who need someone on the lookout for trouble.”

 

Nora busied herself with tugging off her boots, reassuring Preston with a glance. “It's fine. I understand; more than that, you're right. It should have occurred to me to let them know. Don't worry, Nick and I will be fine out there.”

 

There wasn't much more to be said after that. They climbed into their respective beds, makeshift as they were, and Preston blew out the lantern Connie had left on a crate. Dogmeat laid down by her side, and Nora curled into the warmth of him and her covers on the hard floor, trying to settle the tumult of her thoughts and the scratch in her throat into sleep.

 

***

 

Two hours later, and Nora was awake again. Her Pip-boy glared the time with cheerful accusation into her tired eyes from where she had left it propped against her boots. She reached out through the cold air and pushed it facedown. As she slowly sat up, she tried desperately to ignore the bruised feel of her hip and ribs from where she'd slept on her jacket wrong. Nora curled forward, burying her arms in the blankets and struggling to stop the shivers wracking her shoulders. She pulled in breath after long breath until they finally began to subside, and she could relax into the relative warmth the blankets offered.

 

Nora was startled by Nick’s low voice from the other side of the tiny space. “Bad dreams, doll?” His golden eyes opened, and she realized he was sitting up as well, back propped against the wall.

 

She nodded slowly; then, unsure if he could see the small movement, replied, “Yeah. It's not...you don't have to worry about it, though.” Nick made a small sound in his throat as affirmation, and his eyes flicked down to where his hands lay in his lap. Nora pushed herself up further, taking a moment to really look at him as her vision adjusted to the dim light. He was sitting cross-legged, boots kicked off; his long, thick winter duster was draped over his shoulders, and underneath, his shirtsleeves were cuffed up. He looked….thoughtful. No, more like pensive, she decided. She spoke softly, so as not to wake the still slumbering Preston. “And you? Are you alright?”

 

Nick looked up; abruptly, as if he hadn’t heard such a question in a long time. His gaze dropped just as fast, and he rolled his shoulders, like he was trying to shake off some invisible weight. “No, doll, I'm fine. Just can't get to sleep, is all.”

 

“Thinking about this case?”

 

He continued fidgeting with his gloves, “Yeah, doll. Can’t seem to stop.”  “And-” Nick stopped himself, and Nora could practically see him turning over words in his mind. “Well, it’s just got me worried, is all.”

 

Despite how quietly they’d been spoken, the words seemed to ring out in cold air. Nora found herself a little taken aback. Nick wasn’t usually the kind of person to give himself over to fretting about a case. Only a few hours ago, he’d been reprimanding her for worrying too much. She shifted again, her attention growing as the shroud of sleep slipped further back.“Why?”

 

“No special reason, really. It’s just...I’ve got a feeling that something is off about this whole thing.” He rolled his shoulders again, rubbed the back of his neck with a free hand. “I don’t know. Like I said, it’s just a feeling. Maybe it’ll go away.”

 

Nora settled back against the wall, smoothing her fingers over the soft hide of her blanket. “Well, perhaps it is just a passing fancy. But I happen to trust your instincts.”

 

She could almost hear the smile in his low voice, some of the tension slipping away. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, doll. It’s probably nothing, but I’ll let you know if it gets any worse.”

 

Nora grinned to herself, and answered without thinking. “Thanks. Send me a-” She stopped speaking abruptly, her brain stuttering to a halt. Flashes of a life left behind threw themselves before her; little notes, left all over the apartment, and later the house. Grocery lists, reminders, love notes, the silent and never-ending exchange between her and Nate. The memory was like grasping a handful of glass shards. It glinted and gleamed, promising beauty, and all it brought was a vicious slash of pain. She pushed the images away, or tried at least. “Sorry, I meant-” She fell silent, unsure of what she had even meant to say. Her mind was in a tumult,

 

The heavy silence lingered between them. She could tell Nick was deciding whether or not to speak. It was the way he thought; silence could do just as much harm as speaking, but it could also do as much good. She knew it, back from the courtroom. It was the art of speaking without saying a word. Nick was good at it, too. He’d had a long time, Nora figured, to work on his craft, to tell when it was time to speak out, or hold your peace.

 

It took him a few moments to decide. To her, grappling with an unruly mind, trying to push a handful of glass back into where she’d buried it, it felt like an eternity.  “Something I said? Or something to do with whatever woke you up?” She looked downwards, her gaze dropping to where she didn’t have to look at him, pitying her and her loss with those golden eyes that saw everything. That was enough of a confirmation for Nick, apparently.

 

“Want to talk about it?” His hesitance was telling, only to someone who had spent the last few months in his constant company; a soft note woven into the timbre of his speech. He knew it was right to speak - or thought it was. Nora wasn’t so sure. But he didn’t know how far to push. Sometimes it still felt like the two of them were walking on eggshells, no matter how normal everything seemed on the surface. When he spoke again, however, his voice was firmer, decided. “These eyes may be mechanical, but they’re not blind, Nora. I know you have bad dreams most nights.”

 

The observation felt like a slap on the hand, the reprimand that it was, even if he didn’t mean it like that. He was a detective. Nick watched people for a living, knew how to tell what they were thinking, feeling. She should have known that he would notice, after so long in close quarters with each other. Her nightmares had only become more vivid as the cold increased. Nora admitted, deep down, that she was tiny bit surprised he hadn’t brought it up earlier. Perhaps he didn’t know how; she certainly wouldn’t, especially not after the ice had gathered over their relationship. Or perhaps he knew he had no real ground to stand on, commenting on her emotional health. The retort that came out of her mouth was reactionary, tasting wapish and wrong on her tongue. “Yeah, well. I’m hardly alone in that regard.”

 

She risked a glance up, in time to see his hands tighten around each other, the squeeze of leather on leather just barely audible. He remained silent, and she was left trying to figure out how to proceed. A wave of guilt splashed over her like cold water, bringing her back to herself. She hadn’t meant to bring up the subject like this; in fact, she hadn’t meant to broach it at all. Nora tried to swallow the bitter note left in the wake of his perceptiveness, but she knew it was still present, even as she tried to lighten the mood. “You never did answer my question, from a few months ago? If synths dream?” Her gaze returned to her lap, the pattern in the woven blanket indistinguishable in the dark. “I think I got my answer, though.”

 

She thought he might be gruff, resistant. Nate had always been that way if she brought up his dreams after he came home. Come to think of it, she understood him a lot better now. Wasn’t she acting the same way, right now? Closing herself off from anyone who inquired, from anyone who cared? Nora waited for Nick to do it as well, to avoid and evade with a brusque ‘I’m fine’.  But when Nick responded, it was with his usual casual snark. “If I remember, the exact wording of the question was, ‘Do synths dream of electric sheep?’, to which the answer is ‘no’.”

 

The smile was evident in his voice, enough to make her look up and meet his eyes. “Joking aside, I know I’m not the only one here with bad dreams.”

 

“No, you’re not. Doesn’t mean you have to deal with it alone, though. After all these months? I thought we were, well… partners, or something close to it. If you want to keep it to yourself, that’s fine, Nora. But if you want to talk, I’m here. You’re not alone in this, doll.” His gaze wavered as he stopped speaking, and he found somewhere else to look, as if the confession was too much for him. Maybe it was. He eventually cleared his throat, a soft sound in the darkness. “How did you know?”

 

Nora’s heart ached at his low voice, something akin to shame changing the tone. She hadn’t meant to push the subject. Hell, she hadn’t even meant to bring it up. “About the dreams?”

 

He nodded in response, a small motion. Nora floundered, attempting to find a way to explain that she hadn’t been prying, or judging, or trying to hold something over him. She remembered Nate, so vividly, just after he came back from his tour. He had been so changed. There had been a new side to him, a part of him that was serious, reclusive, on edge and deeply ashamed - of what, exactly, she had never full found out, only bits and pieces. She had been woken so many times in the dead of night. Sometimes he had been bitter, his words cruel and sharp as he pushed her away. Other times, she had shaken him from his haunted dreams, to have him cling to her desperately, cold sweat and tears soaking into her pajamas. She remembered the despair, the embarrassment in his eyes, the sadness that never fully cleared, even after Shaun.

 

Nora kept her voice gentle, sympathetic, but matter of fact and unpatronizing. “You woke me up, about a month ago, at the beginning of winter. You were muttering in your sleep, tossing and turning, that kind of thing. Nothing dramatic. But I’ve seen enough of that kind of sleep to recognise it.” She hoped that was enough, hoped he didn’t feel as if he had to keep discussing a subject that was clearly painful for him. Her fingers fiddled with the woven blanket, the texture simultaneously soft and rough against the tips, feeling disconnected as she tried to reciprocate. It was painful, pulling the three words out. “It was Nate.”

 

“Your dream?” Nick sounded surprised, as if he really hadn’t been expecting her to take up his offer.

 

Her voice was rough, the feeling she associated with oncoming tears. She bulled through it, fighting to keep her words clear. “Yeah. You asked if I wanted to talk about it, and I…” She faltered, searching for the words even as they failed her. The ground seemed to sway and shift under her for a moment, and she pulled in a breath as it settled, letting the cold clear her mind. “I don’t want to, but I think, maybe - maybe I need to.”

 

Nick didn’t say anything, letting her gather her thoughts, and for once she was glad of his silence. “I keep seeing him, seeing Nate, that is, and -” Nora swallowed hard. “I don’t know. The dream changes, but he’s always there and I -” She broke off, shaking her head. “Sometimes, it feels like a memory, a good one. Others, it’s like I’m reliving that moment, when Kellogg -” Her voice caught at that, saying the bastard’s name out loud, fury and grief roiling in her chest. The confession that comes out leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. “It’s like I was just there to watch. I think it’s the cold; feels like it’s happening all over again, every time I go to sleep. I’m getting frozen, and I’m terrified that the world I fell asleep to will be gone when I wake up.”

 

Nora left it unspoken; her secret fear that one day, she would wake up and _he_ would be gone, too. She scrubbed at her face, trying to banish the sickly feelings rising once again to the surface. “And it just keeps getting worse.”

 

Nick was silent a moment, considering her words in that thoughtful way of his. “Is there anything I can do for you, doll?” His voice was careful, nearly halting, as if he didn’t quite know how she would react.

 

She felt a pang at his offer, so freely given, and answered with a smile she didn’t have to see to know was sad. “I’ll be fine, Nick. Yeah, it hurts; but so does everything else these days. I’ll survive. I have to,” she added, almost to herself.

 

Nick coughed quietly. “You’re a special kind of woman, Nora. You’ll do more than survive. You’ll find a way to thrive, I’m sure of it.”

 

Nora made a low sound of disbelief in her throat at the flattery. “I wish I had your optimism.”

 

“It’s not really optimism, Just...a feeling, is all.” His eyes flashed briefly in the dark, an expression painfully close to playful. She found her muscles unknotting, relaxing when she hadn’t even realised they were tensed. Nora smiled back at him, properly this time, even if it was small. She hoped it spoke well enough for her; she was certainly at a loss for words now.

 

They settled into a quiet after that. The wind whistled distantly outside, a far cry from the howling monster it transformed into on bad nights. Nick seemed lost in thought, a state that was fast becoming the norm between them. He was preoccupied more and more these days, turning distant, where before there had been humor and camaraderie with each other. It was hard for her to put the feeling into words; she still worried that she’d done something, even though she had no idea what it have could been. And it wasn’t like the distance was hostile, or angry. It was just...different, and Nora didn’t know what to make of it.

 

The lull didn’t last too long. After a few peaceful minutes, Nick seemed to come to himself again, glancing off to the side towards a slumbering Preston. “Looks like your dog’s abandoning you,” he commented, some of his usual humor slipping into his voice.

 

Nora followed his gaze, smirking. She had noticed Dogmeat’s defection when she had woken up; he had left her side to huddle at Preston’s, who had proceeded to throw a sturdy arm over him, curling up close to the dog’s warmth. “Traitor,” she remarked without too much feeling. “I think I’ll survive, though. Looks like Preston need the warmth more, anyway.”

 

Nick made a low, amused sound in his throat, still looking at Preston’s huddled form. He was quiet again for a moment, his brow furrowed and thoughtful. When he broke the silence, his words were unexpected. “Maybe I want to.”

 

Nora looked at him in askance, confused about what he was referring to. “What?”

 

Nick looked down, abashed and...well, maybe a bit embarrassed. It took him a moment to clarify. “Sorry doll. I was just thinking on what you said earlier, about not needing to worry, and...maybe I want to worry.” She didn't respond, and Nick continued quietly. “I know you said you don't want to be a burden on me, and I understand that, more than most people. But you're my friend, one of my only friends. I care about you, Nora. And sometimes I worry about you. It's what folks do when they care.”

 

Nora was almost shocked, even as she was touched. She had never heard Nick open up so much, so abruptly. She felt a sudden longing her heart, something she couldn’t quite name. “Nick, I -”

 

Her words were cut off by the distant sound of the front door thumping open. Nick’s eyes flicked to over her shoulder, and she turned to follow their gaze. The sound of heavy footsteps stomping briefly on the floor were followed by the door snapping closed again. Nora was about to turn back to Nick when she heard Connie’s voice.

 

“Blake?” Her voice was quiet, but the tenor was intense. There was another thump, and the sound of shuffling, as of someone sleepily trying to pull themselves from a chair. “Over here, Con.”

 

The boots thunked softly against the floorboards as Connie presumably made her way to wherever Blake had been dozing. Through the wooden slats of the wall, Nora could just glimpse a shadow as it passed in front of the lone lantern still lit. There was more shifting, then the footsteps stopped and she heard Blake’s voice, rough from sleep. “Is everything ok, Connie?”

 

Wood scraped against wood, and there was the rustle of fabric and the creak of a chair as it was sat in. A long pause followed, and then Connie spoke, her tone tired. “Lenna’s gone.”

 

There was a sharp intake of breath from Blake. Nora did turn to Nick then, her jaw tight with worry that was matched in his eyes. He nodded slowly, and Nora turned back to continue listening.

 

Blake didn’t say anything for a while; likely he couldn’t think of anything. When he did speak, his voice was taut. “Is Lucy still out there?”

 

“Yeah. She doesn’t want to leave the others alone.”

 

“Alright.” There was another scraping sound as Blake stood up. “I’ll go out and help her.” He paused, and his breath hitched a moment. “Get some rest, Connie. You’ve been working yourself to the bone. We’ll worry about this in the morning.” His footsteps crossed the room, followed by her lighter ones. He put on his overcoat with a thick rustle, and pulled the door open. “We’ll be alright, Connie. We’ll figure it out. We always do.” He sounded as if he was trying to reassure himself as the door closed behind him.

 

Nora slowly let out her breath and leaned against the wall, feeling more exhausted than when she had initially laid down that night. From the other side of the wall, she could hear Connie move about slowly. There was a wet, shuddering breath, and then a heavy sniff. After a few moments, the sounds of grief subsided. With the distinct sound of metal on metal, Connie picked up the lantern and started up the stairs, the light fading, leaving Nick and Nora in near total darkness.

 

Gradually, silvery moonlight asserted itself through the door window above them. Nick moved slowly, as if it was painful, gathering his duster closer around himself. When he spoke, Nora thought he sounded as tired as she felt. “We should get some sleep. They say it’s the best thing for getting some perspective.” Even he seemed to have trouble keeping the unease from his voice.

 

Nora nodded, feeling unable to answer. She started shifting the covers back around herself, slipping her uncomfortable jacket off and laying it atop the covers. She settled down to sleep, Nick doing the same just across from her.  Nora turned to her side, pulling the covers high as she tried to set the tumult of the day to rest; and though it took a while, she eventually fell asleep with the wind still whispering it’s mournful tune just beyond the door.

 

***

 

Dawn arrived without it’s usual fanfare that morning, seeping in through the thick and hazy glass of the window set high in the salvaged warehouse door they’d slept by. A gentle blue-grey light suffused the room, peeking through Nora’s closed lids. Preston was up first, stirring Nora from her slumber as he gathered his things together. Dogmeat helpfully licked at her face before wandering off in the direction of the kitchen. She pushed herself up, eyes bleary and protesting at the soft light. She sat quietly for a moment, pulling together the strength to start getting ready.

 

Eventually, she did manage to extricate herself from the warm covers, shivering as she slipped her jacket on. Nora reached over to Nick, grasping his shoulder to shake him gently awake. His eyes squeezed shut tighter before they opened, drifting up to Nora. “Time to go?” he asked, his voice low; almost hoarse, she would’ve said. She nodded, and he grunted in return, rolling out of his own covers while Nora tugged on her boots.

 

They were ready in short order, their sleeping accoutrements folded back up in a corner. Nora made her way into the kitchen, the boys trailing behind her. The smells of cooking were filling the air in there, and they turned the corner to find Lucy at the stove, puttering over a small bubbling stew pot. Dogmeat was at her side, ears perked and attentive as he watched her, obviously waiting for her to drop something from the stove. The girl looked up as they entered, trying weakly for a smile. Her eyes were sad, though, and tired. She began setting out bowls on the table, keeping her voice low as she spoke. “Morning. I didn’t know what time you’d leave, so I just stayed up. Breakfast is ready, though, if you want any.”

 

Nora returned the smile. “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Lucy.” The girl preened a tiny bit, visibly proud of herself for thinking ahead. Nick touched her shoulder lightly to get her attention. “I’m gonna head outside for a moment, doll. Take the lay of the land.” She nodded, and Nick tapped his thigh, catching Dogmeat’s notice. He trotted over happily, Nick scratching idly at his neck. “Come on, boy. Lets you and me take a look around.” Dogmeat followed him out the door, a frigid gust coming through before it closed behind them.

 

Nora and Preston both took a seat as Lucy began spooning a thick, grainy looking substance into their bowls. At Nora’s questioning glance, Lucy quickly piped up. “It’s just hulled razorgrain, made into a porridge with brahmin milk.”

 

Nora raised an eyebrow at that, surprised. She kicked herself mentally for not thinking of it, after all those mornings spent longing after a hot bowl of oatmeal. It was good, too, after she let it cool enough so it didn’t burn her tongue anymore. The taste was hot and creamy, with an almost nutty flavour from the grain; it was good enough that Nora found herself following Preston’s example and scarfing it down eagerly. The heat felt good on her sore throat, the milk soothing after all the smothered coughing she’d done waiting to fall asleep. Lucy ate her own at a much slower pace, still exhibiting some of the lack of appetite from dinner last night.

 

As Preston and Nora finished their breakfast, Nick came back in from the porch, stomping his boots out by the door. “Looks like it snowed a bit last night. Weather seems to be holding out though, even if it is a tad gloomy. I broke a path up to the hill; doesn’t seem like anyone else is up yet.”

 

Lucy shook her head. “Mom and Dad are still asleep.” She shifted in her seat, fidgeting with her spoon. "Lenna died last night. Dad and I spent the rest of the night looking after the other two. He only went to bed a couple of hours ago.”

 

Nora kept her voice gentle, using the consoling tone she had once reserved for crying clients. “We know.” Lucy looked up at her, surprise written in her features, so that Nora felt obliged to add, “We heard your mother come in last night to tell your father.”

 

Preston raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s news to me. I’m sorry, Lucy,” he said, resting his elbows on the table. “If you guys need anything, just let us know over at Sanctuary.”

 

Lucy nodded, trying again for a smile. “Thanks. I’ll tell my parents.”

 

Nick cleared his throat. “If we want to make any headway, we should be going soon.” He focused on Lucy, the girl unconsciously sitting up straighter. “You were the last one to go after Carla. Any advice on where to look?”

 

Lucy perked up at that, some of the cares falling away from her face. “That’s easy. She told me she was heading south on the main road, towards Drumlin. And she didn’t think she’d get there until tomorrow, so she should still be on the road.”

 

“The trading post?” Nick confirmed. “Bit of a ways, but we should be able to make it back, what? Tomorrow morning?” He looked at Nora, mouth quirking up at the corners. “Like the gal said. Easy.” He turned his attention back to Lucy, growing serious again. “We’ll ask Trudy at the diner about some more bloodleaf. Can’t hurt to give ‘em more. And we’ll keep our eyes peeled for anything else helpful.”

 

Nora and Preston gathered up their respective rifles from where they’d leaned them along the wall. Nick checked his shoulder rig and readjusted his duster over it, the hem just whispering against the floor. Nora shrugged on her overcoat, re-wrapping her scarf over it. She tucked her hat on and slung her rifle over a shoulder by it’s strap, the weight heavy and reassuring through her layers. Lucy walked with them to the door. “Thanks again, Mr. Valentine, Miss Nora. And you too, Mr. Garvey.” She rubbed at her forearm, evidently a nervous habit. “I know it means a lot to my parents, your helping out, I mean.” Her expression was earnest. “The Minutemen coming back - I heard my Dad say that’s what you’re trying to do. It’s a big thing. I hope...I hope it all works out.”

 

A stab of guilt hit Nora, tightening in her chest. Her coat suddenly felt twice as heavy, weighing her down into the ground so much that she thought she could feel every grain and imperfection of the wood floor pressing up through the soles of her boots. Nora had never felt like more of a pretender than she did at that moment, with Lucy staring up at her with a fighting hope in her eyes. She didn’t deserve to be looked at like that, like she was some kind of salvation, like she had a secret way to set the Commonwealth free from fear. It wasn’t right. Damn Preston; for making her General, for giving her a title she didn’t want, didn’t know how to use, for letting the rumours spread that the Minutemen were making a comeback. Helping settlers in her travels was one thing. Leading a militia was so far out of her job experience, she didn't even know where to start. Nate had been soldier, the dedicated military man. He would have known how to lead; more than that, he would have known how to use such a force to find Sean, to bring their boy home. She didn't know the first thing about armies. Nora was a lawyer, a good one. She knew how to gather information, how to present a case and find the best solution out of a bad situation. But that was all she was good at, and she just felt so damned ashamed and helpless looking at the girl before her. It was all she could do to bring herself to smile, however faint it was. “I’m not doing anything, Lucy. Not really. It’s people like you, like your family - good people who just want to make this a safer place. That’s all I want.” She hitched her rifle strap higher on her shoulder. “Working together, all of us, maybe we can.”

 

Preston grinned, his eyes sparkling proudly, and clapped her on the shoulder. “Well said, General.” He pulled the door open, tipped his hat at Lucy, and went out. Nora and Nick lingered for a moment, and Nick shook hands with Lucy. “Nice meeting you, young lady. We’ll be back sometime tomorrow, with any luck.” Lucy blushed a little at the ‘young lady’, and turned to shake Nora’s hand as well.

 

Nora grasped it, and suddenly remembered her manners. “Thank your parents for us, will you? It was very kind of you to give us a place for the night.”

 

“Sure thing,” Lucy replied. They headed out the door then, stepping into the frozen air. Nora sucked in a breath at the temperature and tugged her hat down a little more securely, for all the good it did her. The sudden intake of cold caught in her throat, and Nora fell into a momentary breathless coughing fit. She cleared her throat, shaking her head at Nick’s glance. “Just the cold,” she said quietly, hitching her threadbare scarf up higher. She didn't miss how his gaze lingered, something like concern in his eyes.

 

“Well, it's not going to get any warmer,” chuckled Preston. “You ready?”

 

“Yeah, I'm good to go,” Nora replied. Preston stepped off the porch and started down the trail Nick had already broken. Nora followed after him, trudging through the churned snow. She chanced a glance over her shoulder. Nick walked in her footsteps, head down and hat over his eyes. Beyond him, Lucy still stood in the doorway, shoulders hunched and shivering against the cold, forlorn figure against the backdrop of the sleeping house.


	3. Chapter 3

Preston accompanied them to the Red Rocket station before turning up the road towards Sanctuary. He retreated with a quick clasping of hands and an earnest wish of good luck. As he headed north up and over the rise, Nick and Nora opened up the garage door Nora had padlocked a couple months earlier.

Dogmeat trotted in happily before them, claws clicking on the ancient laminate flooring. He gave the room a thorough sniffing as Nora swiftly unlocked a cabinet set against the back wall. She retrieved a small bag from the bottom, part of a stash Nick had encouraged her to leave there in case of an emergency. She mentally thanked Nick for his foresight; the trek to Drumlin was just long enough so as to be impossible without any supplies. She swung the backpack over her shoulders, relocked the cabinet, and picked up her rifle, joining Nick back at the door. He eyed her seriously. “Got everything?”

Nora nodded, clicking her fingers to get Dogmeat’s attention. “Yeah I'm ready,” she replied. Dogmeat pranced back out into the snow, and Nick and Nora both reached up, hauling the metal shutter down into place. Nick locked it and tossed the keyring to her. Nora hooked it back into the inside of her jacket, shivering as the freezing air seeped in further. They started south down the road, the sun only just now beginning to break over the trees on their left. The two of them made good time; the winds were picking up, and they slowly began to scour the snow from the asphalt in patches, making their journey a lot easier.

Their going was quiet. Both of them were loathe to speak, lest they unintentionally invite danger. Sound could carry a long way over the ice and snow, even with the wind muffling it. They carried on with weary eyes and ears, scanning the landscape for any suspicious movement. Dogmeat trotted and bounded ahead through the snow, as was his wont, stopping every so often to sniff at rubble, lamposts, the sides of buildings; anything that caught his fancy.

As they cut through Concord, Nora felt herself tensing. After the wide open space around Sanctuary, the buildings felt towering and claustrophobic around her. The sun was cut out by their rise, leaving Nick and Nora in cold shadow as they passed through. The tightness spread across her shoulders and down her spine. She tried to banish thoughts of a nightmarish monster, a primal, vicious roar echoing through her memory as they skirted the street that led up to the Museum of Freedom.

Nick seems to sense her trepidation, his gaze continually flicking back to her. Only as they left the buildings that made up downtown behind did Nora begin to relax a fraction. She had tried her damnedest to avoid downtown ever since she had met Preston and the others. The small city, where she had one bought groceries and baby clothes and eaten ice cream alongside Nate, now seemed to hold only menace.

Leaving her old stomping grounds behind had never felt like such a relief. With the sun high in the sky, Nick and Nora continued on. The winds that had helped them earlier had dissipated, but not before hindering them. They found the road south covered in snow all over again. It slowed them down considerably, forcing the pair to trudge through the tall drifts before them. The early afternoon wore on in a cautious and exhausting monotony of labored breath and snow blindness.

Nora tumbled into Nick when he finally stopped, grabbing at his shoulder before she could trip properly. He caught her elbow, steadying her, and to Nora spared him and appreciative smile as she peered through the sun's glare.” Is that it?” She shook her head. “I can't see anything with the sun like this.”

“Yeah doll, that's it,” Nick said. He grunted, glancing quickly at the sky. “We actually made better time than I thought we would.”

Nora grinned playfully as she continued squinting into the distance, the dark lump that was Drumlin Diner finally coalescing before her. “What, Valentine? You saying I'm slowing you down?”

Nick huffed out a breath. “Never crossed my mind, doll.” He looked down at her, something sweet glittering in his eyes. “Now quiet, you, and let's get a move on.”

They followed the road over its lumps and rises, avoiding the deep cracks and potholes that littered it. As they got closer, the stand of nearby trees cut across the sun, giving Nora a sudden reprieve from its glare. Even bare and leafless, they provided enough shade for Nora to pick out the trail leading up left fork in the road. It meandered up the hill, to where Drumlin stood on its humble perch.

Nick and Nora both stopped short of the diner, the breath catching in Nora’s throat. “Nick,” she said, the apprehension in her voice obvious even to her own ears.

He grunted, his brow furrowed. “Yeah doll, I see it.”

Nora hugged her coat tighter across her chest. The diner was a cheerful splash of grimy color against the white landscape, the sun spilling in golden slashes over it through the tree line across the road. For all of its dilapidated exterior, the diner looked cheerful and pleasant, a plume of smoke puffing out of a ramshackle chimney. It would have been a welcome sight, had it not been devoid of any sign that Trashcan Carla was or ever had been there.

Nick tucked his hands into his duster pockets, his expression grim. Nora’s heart fell as she looked at the pen, empty of the telltale pack Brahmin. They had had one lead, one shot in the dark, and now it wasn't panning out. Her mind raced, trying to figure out why Carla wouldn't be here. The old woman kept to her routine with a special kind of diligence. There wasn't much that could make her miss a stop. Nora’s thoughts followed along the line of reasoning there. “Maybe we missed her? She might have been here and gone already.”

Nick shook his head. “I don't think so, doll.” He pointed at the boot tracks in the snow, a line that went down the hill, stopped, and returned to the door of the diner. “If I'm not mistaken, that was Trudy going out for a smoke. The tracks aren't fresh; but it was soon enough that it was after the winds died down. Otherwise they would have been blown over.”

Nora nodded slowly, catching up. “Carla spends the night in Concord if she's not through by nightfall, so we can't have been that far behind her.” A note of despair crept into her thoughts. “At some point, we should have seen her tracks.”

Make grunted approvingly. “That's about the size of it.” He ran his hand over his face, rubbing at his jaw line. Nora watched him, a small part of her enjoying the sight of his thinking face. After a moment he sighed, shaking his head. “We might as well go in. We've got to talk to Trudy anyway. There's no point standing out here dithering about it.”

Nora heaved out a resigned breath. “Alright.” They started towards the diner, Nora watching her feet sinking into the snow. Dogmeat ran ahead, sniffing at the empty pen before circling in front of the door, tail wagging absently. A stray thought occurred to Nora as they walked. “Hey, Valentine,” she began. “How did you know Trudy smokes? I've passed through here plenty of times, and I've never seen her do it.”

“Well, I've known Trudy for a bit longer,” Nick answered. He glanced at Nora and elaborated. “Not that we're particularly close or anything. To be honest, I don't really know her all that well. Caught her once when I was stopping by, looking for some fellows stray wife. She always goes to the bottom of the hill. Doesn't want her kid to see.”

“Oh,” Nora said. Nick caught her expression and chuckled quietly. “Sometimes it's just the simplest answers, Nora.”

She smiled, returning some of the warmth from his tone. “I guess so,” she said as they approached the door. “I don't know what kind of answer I was expecting, anyway.”

A serious note slipped back into Nick’s voice. “Given your experience so far in the Commonwealth, I don't blame you for expecting a story. With people there's always-” he stopped himself, frowning. “What I mean to say, is hold onto these instincts. Out here, there's usually something more. It's just a matter of asking the right questions.”

Nora’s curiosity piqued. It wasn't really like Nick to be mysterious. She almost asked further, but they had reached the door, and Nora suddenly had other things to think about.

The repurposed diner they stepped into hadn’t changed since Nora had last come through, aside from a metal barrel that had been dragged into the front room. Flames flickered from within, altering the golden afternoon light that filtered in through a small window of thick, hazy glass. The scent of woodsmoke was heavy in the air, mingling with the heady smell of home cooking. Their entry through the door set off a tinkling can chime suspended from the ceiling. As they closed the door and stomped the snow from their boots, Trudy’s voice rang out from behind the storefront partition. “Be right with you!” Her announcement was punctuated by the clatter of pots and dishes being stacked.

Nora wandered farther in, cozying up to the fire. Dogmeat did the same, curling up in between the wall and the barrell. She tugged at her gloves, pulling them off son she could better warm her hands, swallowing the wet cough that rose in her throat from the change in temperature. She cleared her throat instead, pushing away the lingering rasp, and the faint worry that was beginning to accompany it. Nora let the warmth of the fire seep in, undoing the buttons of her overcoat with stiff fingers and giving the heat better access. Nick kept close by her; not that there was much space to be had. The area for goods was behind the sturdy shop counter, leaving just enough space for a few customers to stand.

Soon enough, Trudy appeared at the counter, a look of pleasant surprise spreading over her face. “Mr. Valentine, Miss Wright! What brings you down here?”

Nora suppressed the small and ever more familiar surge of annoyance at the ‘miss’. stepping up to the counter with a smile. “Business, as usual.” Her smile faded away as she remembered why they were here. “Trudy, has Carla come through here in the past couple of days?”

Trudy glanced between Nick and Nora, her own face settling into confused concern. “No, I haven’t seen her in a week, maybe more. Not since she headed up north to you folks. Why? Has something happened?”

Nick stepped up to Nora’s side. “We need to ask her a few questions, is all. Tell me,” he said, leaning lightly on the counter. “Did Carla mention anything about her brahmin being sick when she last came through?”

Trudy slipped her hands into her pockets, frowning as she thought back. “No, she didn’t say anything of the sort. And her brahmin looked fine. Healthy as a -” she broke off and grinned, somewhat apologetically. “Well, healthy as a brahmin, if you’ll excuse the phrase.”

Nora shook her head, leaning on the counter as well. “Yeah, it is a bit on the nose.”

Trudy shifted her weight, glancing between them. “So, you going to fill me in? What are you two chasing down?”

Nora looked at Nick. He shrugged, turning back to Trudy. “The folks up at Abernathy have sick brahmin, and don’t know why, or where it came from.”

Trudy’s face immediately fell. “Oh, god. I’m sorry to hear that.” Her brow furrowed as she matched Nora’s pose, leaning on the counter with her palms flat on the old vinyl. “How bad off are they?”

Nora grimaced. “Pretty bad, as I understand it.” She glanced at Nick again, catching his eyes, wondering how much she should say. He looked resigned, making a small movement with his hand that said to her, ‘might as well’. Reassured, she continued, “They’ve lost one already, and the other two aren’t doing so well.”

The older woman had the look of someone who had heard a lifetime’s worth of unfortunate news. “That’s horrible.” She shook her head, looking down at the counter thoughtfully. “But I still don’t see why you’re running after Carla. Does she have something to help?”

Nick answered as Nora began to look at the goods on display behind Trudy. “Nothing like that. She keeps her brahmin with the Abernathys’ when she passes through. We thought hers might have gotten the others sick.”

“I see now. Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but like I said, she hasn’t been by.”

Nick looked thoughtful. “It’s strange. The Abernathys’ girl ran after her just yesterday, and Carla told her she would be stopping over here. We should’ve been right behind her.”

“That is odd. Maybe you passed her by in Concord?”

“Could be, but I doubt it. At some point we would’ve seen her tracks.”

Trudy sighed. “You’re probably right.” She glanced at Nora, who was peering intently at one of the shelves. “Something catch your eye, Wright?”

Nora pointed out the small jar she had noticed, whose tiny label she had been trying in vain to read. It was tucked away in a corner, its space nearly overtaken by the other, larger jars on the shelf. “I can’t tell from here; is that dried bloodleaf?”

Something swept over Trudy’s face, and she quickly turned to look. She hurried over and grabbed the jar, moving it to a cupboard that she closed with a snap. “Sorry about that. That wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Nora felt her brows drawing together of their own accord, confused. “So it is bloodleaf?” Trudy didn’t answer, busying herself with readjusting the other jars around the now empty space. Stumped, Nora asked instead, “Why wasn’t it supposed to be there?”

Trudy straightened up, dusting her hands off. “It’s not for sale, that’s all.” Her smile was polite as ever, but something about it was off. Nora bit the inside of her cheek nervously, unsure of what to say.

“Any particular reason why?” Nick asked. From his tone, Nora gathered that he found it as off as she did. He continued, “See, we promised Abernathy we’d try to get him some more bloodleaf for his brahmin. Seeing as how Carla seems to have gone missing, you’re really our only option here.”

Trudy’s face hardened the tiniest bit. “I am sorry, but as I said, its not for sale.” Bewildered, Nora pushed off of the counter, and Trudy sighed. “Look, Nora, I like you. You’re a good, honest woman; that’s something pretty hard to come by out here. You’ve done a lot of good work since you came out her, even when you didn’t have to.” Her face softened. “And you helped me out of a tight spot with Wolfgang. I think a lot of you, ok? So when I say I need the bloodleaf, just leave it at that.”

Nora shook her head, resolute. “No. I’m sorry, Trudy; I respect you, I do, but I don’t get it. We’re not asking you to donate it. We’re not even asking for all of it. We just need something to take back to Abernathy and his family.” Trudy had folded her arms, steadfast. “They’re in a bad place, Trudy. Any little bit helps.”

Trudy seemed to bristle at Nora’s words, rather than acquiescing. “You think I don’t know what that’s like? I know better than most what it’s like to lose almost everything, ok?” Her cheeks were tinged with red, her hands curling and tightening on the counter. “I think it's horrible, I really do. But there's nothing to be done about it. The brahmin either pull through it, or they don't. That’s just the way it is.”

Incensed, Nora opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Nick cut in. “So that's it then?” Nora looked at him, surprised at the fire in his voice. She had never heard him sound so angry. His eyes were glowing, staring down Trudy with an almost uncharacteristic intensity. She was livid, sure, but Nick sounded like he was on the verge of fury. “Someone needs your help, and you just turn your back? Small wonder folks like Nora are a rare breed in the Commonwealth, when everyone acts with such callous disregard for their fellow man.”

Trudy looked like she'd just had a gun pointed in her face. Nora touched Nick’s shoulder lightly, trying to maybe bring him down a notch, but he shook her off. “You have the means to help someone, and you don't even care! Because it's not happening to you, you're free to cover your eyes and pretend it's not happening at all.” Nick set his palms down flat on the counter with a slap of leather on vinyl, in a manner that with anyone else would have looked out of control. “If the Abernathy’s had been any less prepared, they wouldn't last the winter without their brahmin. As it is, they're going to struggle. And you're holding onto something that could help them, for what? A better deal? Selfishness? Or are you just hoarding it without a better reason than you just can't bear to see someone else walk away holding something that was yours?”

Nora was taken aback by the sheer venom that poured from Nick. Trudy’s cheeks were burning now, and her stance behind the counter had become defensive. It was hardly a surprise, given how Nick was braced on the opposite side, coiled like a wildcat ready to strike. She was struggling for something to say, anything to try easing the situation, when an unfamiliar voice came from behind them. “Mom?”

Nick and Nora turned to find the source standing in the doorway to the living quarters. Patrick looked miles better than when Nora had seen him last. His eyes were clear now, and his frame had filled out some. The signs of a recovering addict still hung about him, however. There was a twitchiness to his movements, even as he stood in the doorway, that went beyond any kind of nervous demeanor that might have explained such shiftiness away. His eye sockets were still somewhat hollowed, and his skin more pallid than a few months indoors could account for. Despite this, he stood resolute, his skinny shoulders squared. He kept his eyes on Nick and Nora warily as he addressed his mother. “Is everything ok, mom?”

Trudy smoothed her face, erasing the tension as best she could. “I’m fine, Pat. Go on back. I'll be done in a few.”

Patrick continued looking suspicious, but he acquiesced, jerking his head forward in a nod and backing up as he closed the door. The trio was left standing in a distinctly uncomfortable silence as the door snicked shut. Nora was still staring at the beaten old door when a nagging notion at the back of her mind abruptly bloomed into a full-flowered thought. She fixed her gaze on Trudy and spoke. “It's because of him, isn't it?”

Trudy straightened her shoulders, her face and posture stiff. “I don't know what you mean.”

Nora shook her head at Trudy’s evasion. “Don't put me off like that, Trudy.” She gestured at the cupboard the bloodleaf now resided in. “It fights infections and sicknesses, right? I'm going to wager that it helps alleviate all kinds of symptoms, too. Am I wrong?”

The older woman looked down at the counter. The nod that followed was small, defeated. It took a moment for her to speak. “You’re not wrong. It’s just...he gets bad sometimes. Can’t keep anything down, sweats like it’s the middle of the summer. It doesn’t happen often, but -” She looked between Nick and Nora, her desperation at last revealed. “Don’t you understand? He’s still weak from that damn poison Wolfgang was pushing on him. The bloodleaf is the only thing that helps.”

Nick sighed heavily, turning away partially. The apparent rage had died a sudden death. He stood still for a moment, hands in his pockets. “Seems I owe you an apology, Trudy.”

The lines on the woman’s face stood out all the clearer in the mix of fire and afternoon sunlight. She had dropped her eyes to the counter, her hands worrying over each other. “You weren’t to know,” she said eventually, sounding resigned.

“All the same,” Nick replied, turning back to her. There was a tightness to the way he held himself now. He crossed his arms over his chest; Nora couldn’t see his face, but she had seen him contemplating the road ahead often enough to recognise the posture.

She addressed Trudy, rather than waiting for him. “Knowing what you need it for makes it that much harder to ask again, but I have to.” Trudy looked up at Nora, her expression indecipherable. A slight nausea crept across Nora, a guilt that she couldn’t quite shake. She pulled on her most sympathetic face, nearly pleading. “Please, Trudy. Any little bit you can spare would be a great help.”

Trudy began shaking her head, but Nick cut in. “We’re willing to pay, like we said.” His face was still hard, but his eyes had lost their fire. “We don’t need much. One full leaf should do it.” When she continued to look hesitant, Nick added, “Whatever price you set, we’ll accept as reasonable.”

Trudy chewed at her lip, considering his offer. Nora waited nervously, hoping she took it, hoping that the price she set wasn’t unpayable.

Finally, Trudy answered, pushing off of the counter with a look of defeat. “Sixty caps. No less.” She ran a hand through her hair, mussing the neat bun. “I need to be able to buy more the next time someone passes through.”

Nora nearly balked at the price, but she bit her tongue and pulled off her pack instead, rifling through it for the pouch she kept her caps in. Nick produced two strings of 10 caps each from the depths of his duster, hammered flat and strung onto twine. Nora pulled out one, two, three, four more, leaving her pouch empty but for one string, and a handful of loose caps.

They laid out their caps on the counter. Trudy eyed them with something akin to disappointment, as if she hadn't actually expected them to have that many caps on hand. After a moment, she sighed, and turned to the cupboard to retrieve the jar in question. She unscrewed the top and carefully pulled a leaf out. Trudy screwed the top back on, then wrapped up the single leaf in a piece of newspaper. She slid the package, tied off with a piece of string, across the counter, sweeping up the bundle of caps with her other hand. Nora carefully stowed the leaf at the top of her pack, where it wouldn't get crushed, and hitched the bag back onto her shoulders. Trudy watched her, hands stuck in her pockets. “I hope it serves you well,” she remarked. The statement wasn't bitter, as Nora half-expected. Trudy just sounded tired, as if the wind had been kicked out of her.

There was a brief, awkward pause; then Nick simply tipped his hat at her, and walked out the door, the chimes ring with the icy breeze that swept in. Nora followed, stopping at the threshold to look back. “Thank you,” she said, meeting Trudy's gaze. “I mean it,” Nora added, feeling like the words weren't enough.

Trudy shook her head slowly. “Don’t bother, Wright. You’re doing a good thing.” She crossed her arms, clearly uncomfortable. “I just hope it helps.”

Nora hesitated, unsure of how to answer. But Trudy continued staring down at the counter; so in the end, she simply turned away, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.

The cold air felt unusually good, even as it stole the air from her lungs. Nick was waiting for her at the start of the slope, his hands in his pockets, duster swirling dramatically around his legs. She trudged up to him, and together they walked down the hill.

At the bottom, when they reached the fork in the road, Nora came to a halt. Nick continued on for a few feet before realizing she had stopped. He turned around, his expression radiating concern. “Nora? You alright?”

She pulled in a breath, shaking her head and bracing herself. Nora looked him in the eye, her gaze steady. “What the hell was that back there, Nick?”

Nick stiffened, the concern slipping away as a stonier expression replaced it. “Excuse me?”

Nora shifted on her feet. “Don’t play the fool with me, Nick. It’s insulting to my intelligence and yours. So I’ll ask again, what in God’s name was that? Because that-” she gestured up at the diner for emphasis. “That was not normal.”

Nick snorted, and Nora could practically see his walls going up. “Normal?” Nick said, his voice tinged with incredulity. “And what would you know about normal, doll? You’ve been here all of, what, a few months?” He drew himself back, a snarl creeping in. “You hardly know a thing about me.”

Nora felt like she’d been slapped across the face, her cheeks stinging in the cold. She tried to shake it off, getting back to the batter at hand. “I think I know plenty by now. I’ve seen you handling people enough times to know what you’re like with them.” She folded her arms, standing her ground. “Trudy is not a criminal mastermind, Nick. She may not be a proper friend, either, but she is friendly; and we need her to stay that way of we ever hope to see Sanctuary survive.”

Nick looked away, his face still set in a scowl. But she could feel his anger shifting away from her. She chewed on her lip, then tried changing tacks. “Look, I know things have been...different between us ever since we got here, and I’m not completely sure why, but-” her arms tightened across her chest, the cold and nerves putting her on edge. “But I do know that this isn’t you, not really. Something’s bothering you; and if you don’t want to tell me what it is, or can’t - that’s fine. But I’m here, Nick. Please don’t push me away.” She stepped towards him, closing some of the distance. “We’re partners, right Nick?” He looked up at the sky, then back down, out at the glowing horizon past the trees. Eventually, he nodded, the movement small, but sure, like he had finally made up his mind about something. Nora let a small breath escape her lips, a kind of relief washing through her. “Then let me help. We work better together.”

A quiet chuckle came from Nick; of all the responses, it was the one she was least expecting, but she was just glad to have something. He stopped avoiding looking at her, his eyes washed out by the bright afternoon light, face somber despite the laughter. “Always know just what to say, don’t you doll?” She was about to respond when Nick waved his hand. “No, doll, you’re right. That was-” he looked back up at the diner, his expression indecipherable. “It was uncalled for, I know. I...I’m tired, Nora. Tired of seeing decent people suffer because others wouldn’t lift a finger to help. It was like that before the war, and it’s like that now. Nothing’s changed, and I’m-” he broke off, visibly struggling to tamp down his anger. “I’m sorry; for losing my temper in there, that is. It shouldn’t have happened.” He shifted, perhaps out of uncertainty. His hands found his pockets again, his face shifting to a sort of apologetic bemusement. “I mean, if you want me to go back inside and apologise properly…” Nick trailed off, his voice delivering the humor with an uncharacteristic awkwardness.

Nora sighed again, shaking her head and smiling despite herself. “I’m not sure Trudy really wants to see any more of us today.” She glanced up at him with a small curling of the mouth that was wry and tired. “We should get going, anyway; it’ll be dark soon, and it’s going to take us most of the night to get back.”

Nick nodded firmly, and they set off side by side. The going was a bit easier, as they were following their own tracks from earlier. While they walked, Nick gestured towards the shadow of Concord. “Did you want to look for any signs of Carla while we pass through town? It’d cost us a bit of time, but it might be useful to know what’s happened to her.”

Nora bit the inside of her cheek, frowning at the outline of the town. “No. It’ll take too long. I’d rather get this stuff back to Abernathy as fast as possible. We’re already cutting some time off, since we don’t have to stop by the Red Rocket, but I don’t want to risk it. We’ll have to let our pass through Concord be enough. If we see something, we see it. If we don’t, we don’t.” Nick grunted in agreement, and she continued. “We’ll just have to wait and find out what happened the next time she comes around.” She left the obvious ‘if’ unsaid, trying not to think too hard about the loss of their only line of direct trade.

The afternoon wore on into dusk, and then night. Above them, the sky remained clear, a thousand crystalline stars and the silver moon reflecting off of the snow, Illuminating their path. It was peaceful, in a way the Commonwealth rarely was. Halfway through Concord, Nora began to struggle with her exhaustion, the labors of the day starting to take their toll on her.

As their trek wore on, the night’s tranquility begin to exert its influence over Nora. The blue white snow seemed endless and unbroken as they left the outskirts of Concord behind. The soft rushing of the wind muted the sounds of an already quiet night. It slipped in past the defenses of Nora’s layers and chilled her, settling on her skin like a layer of ice on a lake. Even with Nick trudging alongside her, everything begin feeling distant. The stars, the moon, Sanctuary and the sick brahmin; they all seemed so far away right now. Every now and then, Nora noticed Nick's gaze on her, checking that she was all right. There was a faint concern in his yellow eyes, although why, she didn't know. He drifted closer to her, and she let him, shortening her steps, slowing down. She found herself focusing on her breath, trying to keep it deep and even, and failing as it continually hitched in her throat. Her vision seemed to slow down with the rest of her, the shadows and snow alternating between a saturated water color and photo perfect clarity. Her boots sank into the drifts, one after the other after the other. She shook her head, hauling her rifle higher on her shoulder and pulling in a long breath to steady herself, the cold burning in her nostrils. It did little to clear her mind, however. She felt remote, on an island by herself, her senses wrapped in batting. Each struggling step took more effort, her limbs beginning to feel leaden. It felt like hours had passed; maybe it had been that long. Nora couldn't tell, her mind sluggish and absent.

After a time she heard a faint noise, a muffled voice pulling her from her every. She started, jumping at the sudden contact of a hand on her arm. She turned to find Nick at the other end of it, saying her name with concern etched across his face. Abruptly, she became aware of just how close Nick was; eyes aglow and intent, gloved hand wrapped around her arm, he had pulled in close, as if he was ready to catch her in his arms. Norris stumbled to an awkward halt, rubbing at her eyes. “Nora,” Nick repeated, his voice picking up a little more urgency.

She looked up at him blearily,giving her head another little shake. “Sorry, NIck. Just more tired than I expected.”

He pulled back, looking mollified. The rush of cold that filled the space between them as he did so left her shivering. His grip slowly loosened, and she suddenly realized how tight it had been. She rolled her neck, tilting her head back and looking at the stars. The moon was high overhead; midnight, then, or thereabouts. Nick spoke, a low reassuring sound in the bleak landscape. “Probably not surprising, given the last two days.” He looked out at the monochromatic horizon. “Although, we’ll be passing near the Red Rocket soon, if it’s any consolation.”

Nora took in their surroundings in mild surprise. In the darkness, looming shadows began to take on more definite shapes. Landmarks that had become familiar to her over the last few months started to stand out. “I didn’t realise we were so close,” Nora said.

Nick snorted softly and started trudging through the snow at a slow pace, waiting for her to fall into step with him. “That’s because you’re dead on your feet, doll.”

Nora hitched her rifle up again. “Doesn’t matter how tired I am, as long as we get to the Abernathys’ in time.” She held her hand out by her side, and within a few seconds Dogmeat was nosing at it. His fur was soft and warm deeper down, even with her gloves on. He trotted alongside her as they walked, panting happily.

Nick glanced at her, then back ahead, his face suspiciously stoic as he shook his head. “That determination is going to be your downfall someday, Nora. Take it from someone who knows.”

Nora stared at him, curious and caught off guard by his seriousness. He kept his eyes forward, though; eventually, she dropped her own gaze to the ground as they started navigating a rockier terrain, leaving the road behind and cutting cross country. After a while, they passed a shadowy rocket that loomed in the distance to their right, signaling the station. They carried on, the ground underneath the snow loose and gravelly, making the going cautious and cutting into their progress. Dogmeat pranced and bounded around, paying no notice to the shifting ground as he jumped into snow drifts, and activity that never seemed to grow old for him.

They climbed over a particularly slippery outcropping of rocks, Nick going first and offering Nora a hand as she gingerly descended. Just as her feet touched down on the ledge that Nick stood on, she heard a low growl coming from below them. At the familiar rumble, Nora looked below, searching for Dogmeat. She found him immediately, a dark brushstroke against the white snow. His eyes glinted in the moonlight, staring up and past her with his fangs bared. Nora whipped her head around to follow his gaze, and felt Nick’s grip on her arm tighten almost painfully, the skeletal fingers digging into the muscle through his gloves and her layers. Her heart dropped, sinking with a nauseating sensation as her whole body instinctively stilled, all the breath leaving her lungs.

Above them, leaning over the rocks, was one of the biggest yao guis Nora had ever had the misfortune of beholding in her short time in the Commonwealth. It shifted its paws, the movement of its massive form sending a shower of powdery snow down around them. It's eyes were glowing a reflective yellow in the starlight, similar to a cat's. She could hear it's heavy, lumbering breaths, rasping wetly as it panted. As she and Nick watched, it deliberately uncurled its lips, exposing teeth the size of her fingers. It snarled, low and vicious, the spitting sound sending a wave of adrenaline through her.

With that snarl, the spell broke. Nora was suddenly able to pull in a breath, her lungs filling. She felt Nick’s grip loosen as well, ever so slowly. His voice was soft and quiet, breath brushing past her ear. “Don’t move.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “When I let go, climb as fast as you can up the rocks to your left.” She glanced, keeping her head still, then gave a tiny nod. “I’ll draw it down and away. As soon as you get a shot, take it. And don’t argue,” he said, just as she opened her mouth on reflex. “You have the rifle, you take the high ground.”

Nora bit her cheek and forced her feelings aside, focusing instead on how to get up the slope. Her eyes kept flicking back to the yao gui, who was still surveying them, making tiny swings back and forth with its head as if it couldn’t figure out why they were so still. She set her feet on the ledge, preparing to run, and the movement drew its gaze. Its yellow eyes flickered, and it gave a snarl that was almost a roar; and Nick let go.

He moved fast, as he always did, and the yao gui followed, tumbling down the slope with an almost comic inelegance. Nora pushed off the ledge, trying to scramble up the slope before it could shift under her. It gave way under her hands and feet as she did, revealing in some places the icy dirt underneath. She finally caught her fingers on a rock and used it to haul herself up and over. A few more struggling steps, and she had made it, rolling herself onto a stable ledge. Nora yanked her rifle off of her shoulder and cozied up to it, trying to steady her heaving chest.

There was a ringing in her ears; the increasingly familiar accompaniment to combat. It was hard to hear the continuing snarls and roars as the yao gui chased after Nick. She started tracking it through her scope, following its erratic movements as it stumbled through the rock formations below. She couldn’t see Dogmeat anywhere, but she could follow Nick, who seemed to slip over and around the rocks with ease, light on his feet. He led the yao gui around and around, baiting it, until it finally swept at him with a roar Nora felt more than heard, its echoes reverberating in her chest. Nick dodged back, and it tripped over itself, slipping and losing its balance on the unstable ground. He seized the opportunity, leaping onto a higher rock, whirling around and drawing his gun as he did, duster flaring out. One, two shots rang out, and the yao gui reared back with a guttural cry of fury. As it stopped moving, Nora took aim, pulling in a deliberately slow breath. She waited, waited...and then squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked back, smacking into her shoulder.

The yao gui moved just as she took her shot, and Nora cursed her luck as she saw the bullet graze its neck. It flinched, head swivelling around to find her. Through the scope, she glimpsed a crazed glint in its eyes. Her muscles clenched instinctively, everything telling her to run. As Nick scrambled higher and reloaded his gun, Nora pulled a bead on the beast again. It had spotted her, its attention shifting. While it began its charge up the slope, Nora aimed, fired, and watched as one of its paws fell out from underneath its weight.

To her shock, the creature simply roared again, picking itself back up. It resumed its climb towards her with a renewed ferocity, getting up faster than she’d have thought possible given its size. She scrambled to her feet, seizing her rifle and running down and away, trying to keep its attention on her. It gave chase, and she faintly heard Nick calling her name. Nora kept going, changing direction and cutting across to another ledge. She crouched, aimed, watched as another bullet did nothing to impede the yao gui; when out of nowhere, Nick appeared, jumping from above and driving himself into the beast.

They tumbled down the slope together, falling apart as they reached the bottom. Nora started after them, blood pounding in her head. Nick was picking himself up as the yao gui tried to recover, searching for his gun. The creature struggled to its feet, spotting Nick and bounding towards him, leaving a bloody trail behind in the churned snow. Nick dodged, rolling himself away, the beast faceplanting into where he had been kneeling. As she slipped on the loose slope in her hurry, Nora could see him still scanning the ground for his gun.

She knew when he spotted it; he lunged at the ground, diving dangerously close as the yao gui leapt towards him, swiping out with a massive paw. The limb caught him full in the chest, sending Nick flying against rocks with a sickening crunch that Nora heard even over the percussions in her head. She would have screamed, but she had nothing left in her lungs. Nora forgot to watch the ground, and in a single lurching instant, she lost her footing. The snowy scree disappeared out from under her, and she fell, rolling down the slope in an uncontrolled tumble, hitting what felt like every rock on the way.

She slid to a stop in a heap at the base. Nora tried pushing herself up and failed, her battered body screaming. She tried again and got herself up into a sitting position, leaning heavily into the frozen ground. Her rifle was nowhere to be seen; as she looked around, she saw the yao gui limp around to face her. She couldn’t Dogmeat, couldn’t see Nick either, but she had no time to dwell on that as the beast approached her, blood spattering the snow with every step. Nora scrambled away, limbs clumsy with the cold. She scrabbled backwards, legs kicking out.

Her back smacked up against something solid; she fumbled with her thigh holster, trying desperately to pull her 10 mil. free. The catch finally gave under her frantic fingers, and she yanked the gun out, leveling it with the yao gui. Nora’s world suddenly shrank, her vision tunneling. Behind her, the rock dug cruelly into her spine; before her, it was just the wild beast, yellowed teeth gleaming in the moonlight, foam flecking its lips, dark blood running through and matting its ragged fur. With it this close, she couldn’t possibly miss, and she took swift advantage of the range. She shot for the center of mass, the bullets impacting its chest - and doing little. It slowed, lumbering heavily towards her still. Her gun clicked, empty, and she dropped the clip, groping at her overcoat for a spare.

Her hands were shaking - with the cold or adrenaline or just straight up fear, she couldn’t tell. It was close enough to smell its breath on the breeze, rotting and maliferous; when suddenly, the familiar barrel of a rifle was pressed against the yao gui’s temple. Not just any rifle, her rifle, and that hands wrapped around it were Nick’s. With a vicious crack, he fired the gun. Nora whipped her head away, avoiding most of the resulting spray. When she looked back up, the yao gui was finally dead, blood seeping from its shattered skull into the snow around it.

The silence that followed felt deafening. Nora stayed on the ground, leaning on her hands, panting and shuddering. She felt wired, like she was coming down from the high of too many coffees. A nauseating sensation accompanied the tremors, and she looked up at the sky, pulling in deep breaths of the chilly air to try pushing it away. She heard the metal clack of a bolt pulling back, and looked down. Nick was inspecting her rifle, a faint line furrowing his brow. He nodded to himself and pushed the bolt back in, chambering the next round. Nick trudged over to Nora, switching her rifle to his left hand and offering her his right. She took it gratefully, using the leverage to get her feet back under her. In the back of her mind, some small part of her wondered at the strangeness of his grip, the skeletal metal hand bony and unyielding under his gloves.

His hand seemed to linger on hers even as she thought that, waiting until she was steady on her feet. Nick handed over her rifle then, and almost-smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. “That’s one helluva rifle you’ve put together there, doll.”

Nora let out a shaky chuckle. “Well. That’s what a couple months of bored tinkering will get you.” She gave the rifle her own once-over, and slipped the strap over her shoulder. “Are you alright? You took a nasty hit.”

Nick rolled his shoulders, gesturing with a casual ‘so-so’ flick of his hand. “I’ll be fine. Maybe a bit sore later on, but I’m made from pretty sturdy stuff.”

A surge of relief washed over Nora upon hearing that, before evaporating just as fast. Looking around, a sudden panic clawed its way up her throat. “Dogmeat? Where’s Dogmeat?”

“Staying put, I hope,” Nick muttered. He put his fingers between his lips and whistled, a high, shrill noise that made Nora’s ears twinge. After a few moments of interminable waiting, Dogmeat appeared from behind a jagged grouping of rocks, limping slowly over. Nora hurried around the yao gui’s carcass, meeting him halfway. He kept his front left paw up off the ground, but still managed to greet her with happy eyes and a tired wag.

Nora knelt before him, reaching out and taking his paw as gently as possible. He let out a single pained whine, but stayed still, flattening his ears against his head. She inspected his paw carefully. It was bloody, but not overly; it looked like it had been smashed up against something rough. She prodded at the bones, and felt them shift uncomfortably as Dogmeat whimpered quietly. Nora looked up at Nick. “I think his paw is broken.”

He knelt down beside her to perform his own inspection. He nodded, brow furrowing. “You’re probably right, doll.” Nick reached into his duster and started rifling through its pockets. “Before I got a shot off at that beast, Dogmeat here jumped into the fray, got a good bite in. I saw him get swatted for his trouble, thrown into the rocks over there.” He finally produced a long, thin metal rod that looked suspiciously like a screwdriver without a handle. “Here we are; this should do for now.”

Nora shrugged her pack off, realising where Nick was going. She started digging through the bag for the strips of worn cloth she kept as emergency bandages. Nick held the rod in place against Dogmeat’s foreleg while Nora quickly wrapped the strips around it, securing the makeshift splint with as neat a knot as her cold fingers could manage. Nick ruffled the fur on Dogmeat’s neck once they finished. “Not the prettiest, but I suppose it’ll do for now.” He nodded at Dogmeat, who was gingerly sniffing at the splint. “Go on, boy, try it out.”

Dogmeat placed the bandaged paw on the ground with obvious care. He took a few steps, then looked up at Nora, wagging halfheartedly. She smiled down at him and scratched behind his ears. “Thatta boy.” Nora glanced at Nick. “I guess we’re good to go.”

Nick held up a hand, walking back over to the yao gui’s body. “Hold on a moment. I wanted to get a second look.”

Nora raised an eyebrow as he crouched next to the carcass. “Why? So you can savour the terror that accompanies almost being eaten?”

He glanced back up at her, bemusement flickering over his face. “Sure, doll, something like that.” He returned to his perusal of the corpse, his expression shifting back into seriousness. “Something was bothering me about this, that’s all.” Nora came around the side of the yao gui to join him, and he continued. “Thing is, our friend here shouldn’t have even been out and about.” He paused, resting his forearms on his knees. “The yao gui is descended from bears; it may be pretty heavily mutated, but it tends to keep the same general habits. By all accounts, our girl here should have been hibernating.’ Nick shook his head. “It just doesn’t…”

He trailed off, looking closer at its mouth. Nora heard him make a quiet “Ah-ha” to himself, that perfect little sound of realisation that she loved hearing him say. Her curiosity piqued, Nora leaned over his shoulder to follow his gaze. Nick noticed and gestured at the yao gui’s mouth. Nora peered at it more intently, her vision unable to discern anything abnormal in the poor light, until - “Is that...foam?”

“Sure looks like it,” Nick said. He leaned back on his haunches again, frowning. “It would explain a lot about this poor thing’s behaviour.”

Nora looked at him, askance; then it dawned on her. “You don’t think this thing had...rabies?”

She knew she sounded incredulous, but Nick paid it no mind, nodding seriously. “Sure do, doll. It would explain why she’s not hibernating, why she wouldn’t stop even after taking multiple hits.”

Nora shifted, muscles sore and abused from her tumble. “I know what you mean. It took more than one direct hit from me; didn’t even slow it down.”

He stood up, brushing off his duster as he did, and Nora followed suit. “I suppose there’s no way to know for sure, really. But it fits,” he said. “And it feels...well, right.”

Nora crossed her arms. “You don’t think this is what the Abernathys’ brahmin caught, do you?”

Nick shook his head. “I doubt it. Those brahmin are presenting with much different symptoms. It’s possible it shows up differently in other species, I suppose.” Nick sounded skeptical. “But then we still end up with the question of how both the brahmin and our yao gui here contracted...whatever this is.”

Nora looked down at Dogmeat, rubbing at her upper arms. “Do you think Dogmeat will be alright? What if it’s bloodborne?”

Nick smiled faintly. “Our boy here should be fine. I think he mostly caught a mouthful of fur.”

She huffed out a breath, a smile almost breaking through. “Good.” She sighed heavily, the aftermath of all the adrenaline leaving her exhausted. “Christ. I feel like I’ve been hit by a train.”

The smile that was lurking around Nick’s mouth bloomed a bit more. Nora suddenly felt a little better seeing it. She relished every opportunity she had to make him really smile. It was always so sweet, so unguarded and good. Her heart lifted just from seeing that expression for a few moments. She was so distracted by it, in fact, that she barely noticed him stepping closer. He reached out, and before she could even register surprise, Nick had slowly, gently, almost tenderly swiped his thumb over her cheekbone, wiping away some unseen blemish.

She was startled; she didn’t move, didn’t say anything, but it must have showed in her face. Nick’s smile vanished, and everything suddenly felt colder as he stepped away. “Sorry,” he said, hurriedly explaining. “You had - there was a bit of blood on your cheek.”

“Oh,” Nora said, suddenly inexplicably awkward. “Thanks.” She absentmindedly brushed her fingertips over the spot. She felt flushed, cheeks and nose stinging. It took some effort to pull herself together, tucking her hair behind her ears and shouldering her rifle properly. Nick had busied himself in a similar manner, readjusting his gloves and hat.

He looked at her from under the brim of his fedora, which, by some miracle, hadn’t been dislodged during the fight. “You all set, doll?”

Nora nodded, shaking off the strange feeling that something had just happened. “Yeah, I’m good to go.” She whistled to Dogmeat, who had wandered a few feet away to sit and gaze mournfully at his splinted foreleg. He limped to her side, and they set off - but out of respect for Dogmeat’s handicap, at a slower pace than Nora would’ve preferred.

It felt to Nora like it took a solid age before they could see the top of Abernathy Farm rising over the slopes. It had only been a couple of hours; she found out when she checked her Pip-Boy. As she did, she discovered a new scratch that she hadn’t noticed earlier, a deep score along the screen. It was probably from her fall. Come to think of it, she was a little surprised the whole screen hadn’t been shattered.

The sky had shifted from the deep indigo of night to pre-dawn colours, the edge of the horizon brightening bit by bit as the stars slowly faded. The landscape transformed into shades of lavender-grey, and it became almost harder to see their way now that the moon was retreating to the far edge of the sky. The snow had settled into the tall grasses around the farm, making it a struggle to navigate. When they finally they finally stumbled onto the property, making their way across the snowy planting fields in front of the house, Nora was bone-tired.

The old wooden steps creaked under their boots as Nick and Nora climbed onto the porch. Nick rapped his knuckles on the door with a heavy thunk. Dogmeat leaned against Nora’s leg, obviously tired from the effort of limping so far. Even Nick looked worn out, the lines on his face taut and his posture different, as if he didn’t have enough energy to hold himself all the way upright. After a few long moments, they finally heard footsteps approaching from the other side.

As tired as Nora felt, Blake Abernathy looked worse when he opened the door, his expression grim. He looked between the two of them, eyes red and lined. He sighed heavily and held the door open wider. “Come on in.”

Nora took in the room as they stepped in, Blake closing the door behind them. Connie and Lucy were both seated at the table, looking as exhausted as Blake. Glancing at them, Nora got the distinct feeling that they were intruding on a family moment. “Did something happen? Is everything alright?”

Connie looked over at her, opening her mouth to speak, but she seemed at a loss for words. She looked over at her husband, who had stepped closer to the table, hands shoved in his pockets. “The brahmin, they uh-” his voice broke a little, and he glanced away for a second. “They're both gone.”

Nora's heart slowly sank. She had a strange feeling, like what was happening was just a dream. It was difficult to figure out what to say, the words refusing to come. “I thought - wasn't Lenna sicker for longer than a couple days?”

Connie nodded, her movements slow. “We thought we'd have a bit more time, but -” she gestured vaguely with her hand. “They got worse yesterday, in the afternoon. Anna died last night.”

“And Sara went an hour ago,” Blake finished for her. He looked helpless, lost in the middle of the high ceilinged room. After a moment, he seemed to collect himself. “Did you have any luck? Find anything out?” He looked at them, his eyes weary and sad, but still with a faint glimmer of hope. “Maybe we can prevent this from happening at other settlements, if we just know what caused it.”

Nora almost felt sick with the wave of shame and guilt that hit her. The words stuck in her throat; she didn't know how to tell them they had found nothing, that they had failed. Thankfully, Nick came to her rescue.

In his quiet, matter-of-fact way, Nick laid out what had happened since they'd left the farm yesterday morning. As he did, Nora watched the faces of the Abernathy family fall even further. An overwhelming urge to run away came over her, to fall into the nearest abandoned pit and stay there for another 200 years. Seeing that growing despair was almost too painful to watch. She could have prevented this, if only she'd walked faster, if only the yao gui hadn't attacked, if they'd been faster at Drumlin, if only, if only, if only. The thought of all they might've done to get there faster was like a physical blow to Nora. She had never failed anyone so completely. It was more than disheartening; it was sickening.

Nick glanced at Nora as he neared the end of his account, with a look that read of uncertainty. “We, uh, weren't sure if we should bring this up with you, since it may not be related, but you should probably know anyway.” Connie glanced up at that, a sharp interest replacing her morose expression. “We had a run-in with a savage yao gui just a few miles south of here, on our way back.”

Blake finally looked up as well, his face quickly changing from dejection to astonishment. “In the middle of the winter? What did you do, fall in its den?”

Nora shook her head, deciding it was time to pitch in. “Nothing like that. It came out of nowhere, attacked us without any provocation.”

“Which wouldn't be all that unusual any other time of the year,” Nick added. “But it was….different as well.”

“What do you mean, ‘different’?” Connie asked.

Nora shrugged. “It wouldn't stop. We both got in multiple direct hits. Any other animal would've turned tail and fled, but this didn't. It just kept coming for us, like it was crazed.”

“And we took a gander at the body afterwards,” Nick supplied. “It looked pretty sick. Over salivating, foam around the mouth, that kind of thing.” At the Abernathys’ nonplussed expressions, he continued. “It looked like a disease, pre-war. Makes the animal - or person - crazed, unable to drink water, and eventually kills them. One of the common signs was foaming at the mouth, or a lot of excess saliva.” He shrugged. “But to be honest, I've never seen something like it out here in the Commonwealth.”

Connie shook her head, frowning. “I've heard of sicknesses like that. Mostly from hunters, though. They say it usually shows up in radstags, and wild dogs. Although it can be hard to tell if they're sick, or just vicious.”

Nick grunted low, nodding to himself. Blake rubbed at the back of his head, his eyes weary again. “Whatever it is, it doesn't sound like what our girls have - had, rather.”

Nick tilted his head apologetically. “Figured you ought to know, anyway.”

Blake jerked his head in acknowledgement. “Thanks for that.”

An awkward silence fell for a few moments, before Nora remembered the bloodleaf with a start. “We did manage to get some extra bloodleaf from Trudy. I know the brahmin -” she faltered, then continued. “I know you don't need it now, but you're free to have it. Just in case something else comes up.”

Connie shook her head. “It's fine, Wright. Keep it.” Before Nora could protest, she held up a hand. “It was your caps that bought it. I appreciate it, though. You didn't have to go through so much trouble for us.”

Nora looked down, then back at Connie. “It was the least we could do. I'm just - I’m sorry we could get back in time.”

Connie nodded, the movement quick and small, as if she was trying to hold in some stronger emotion. Surveying the room, Nora felt the need to get out surge again. Without looking at Nick, she knew he felt the same too. They were outsiders now, no matter how much they had tried to help. It was time to leave.

Nora cleared her throat. “If there's anything - anything you need, just send word, ok?”

Blake lifted his chin, a glimmer of stubborn pride still in his eyes; but he nodded anyway. Nick and Nora slowly turned, made their way back to the door. They stepped out into the frozen morning, the sun still not up, leaving the oppressive silence behind them. The door snicked shut, and it was all Nora could do to breathe in the crisp air. She hurried off the porch, leaving Nick and Dogmeat behind her as she trudged towards the hill that led to Sanctuary, to home. She heard Nick call out her name, distantly, and stopped, waiting for him to catch up.

When his did, she felt a light brush of fingers on her shoulder. She looked up at the sky, trying to regulate her frantic, ragged breaths. “Just - just give me a moment.” His touch slipped away, and she struggled for a few moments with the tears that wanted to fall. She felt so angry, so helpless, it made her eyes burn and her hands shake.

As the haze passed from her vision, she was left feeling all of the exhaustion from the past two days. She looked down, and found Nick gazing at her, his brow knit with concern. “You all right, doll?”

She made to answer, but the lie got stuck in her throat. Instead, she shook her head. “I didn't - I thought we could help them, Nick! I thought maybe, just maybe it would turn out ok. We would get there in time, save the day for once. But now -” she stopped, gulped in a breath. “Now, we just raised their hopes before smashing them to pieces again.”

Nick reached out, hesitantly. His fingers brushed at her arm again, staying this time. It felt like a lifeline, and all of a sudden, Nora found herself stepping in close, wrapping her arms around him before he could protest.

The hug felt good; he was warm, solid, real. She had never been this close to him before. Her nose pressed against his duster, and she breathed it in, cigarettes and wood and damp earth and trees. He smelled good, and she let herself enjoy it, this one little moment. He was stiff and surprised at first, his posture uncomfortable. But after a moment, he relaxed into it, his hands gently settling on her back and waist. God, she had missed this, the feeling of contact with someone else, someone living and breathing and thinking, the feeling of just being held. The tears almost came back, but she fought them down. Better to avoid a wet face and running nose in this weather.

They stayed like that for a minute or so, leaning into each other in the quiet. Eventually, Nora stepped back. Nick’s hands slipped slowly away as she did, as if he was as reluctant to end the embrace as she was. His expression was strange when she looked up, but she couldn't hazard a guess as to what he was thinking. He looked down at her, meeting her gaze, and smiled faintly. Nora rolled her shoulders, slightly discomfited, and summoned one in return. “Thanks for that,” she said, her voice almost hoarse from how tight her throat was. “I needed it.”

Nick nodded, the strange look still lingering behind his comforting expression. “I think - well, I probably did too, in all honestly.” He slid his hands into his pockets, glancing down. “Look, Nora, we tried our best,” he began. “It may not have turned out well, but we did our damnedest. And that's all anyone can ask for, really. It's not your fault this brahmin died, you hear me? As much as I know you want to blame yourself, don't.”

Nora sighed heavily. “I know, Nick.” She looked down at the farm, a faint glow coming through the thick, hazy windows. The Abernathys were still up, tired as they must be. After a few moments, Nora spoke again. “I guess we’ll never know how the brahmin got sick, will we?”

Nick grunted. “You never know, doll. With any luck, Carla will turn up in a month or so, hopefully with a story to tell. Maybe we’ll know a bit more then.”

“I suppose,” Nora responded. She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she could stand closer to Nick again, absorb some of his heat. “I'm tired, Nick,” she said, her voice low as she turned away from the farm, the lights within vanishing as the sun finally broke over the horizon. “Let's go home.”

Nora began trudging slowly through the snow, her feet heavy and wooden. Dogmeat wandered slightly ahead, ears perked for signs of danger as he limped along. After a moment, Nick followed suit, catching up so he could walk by her side, a silence - that for once, she didn't mind - settling over them as they made their way to Sanctuary. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait!! Life and work has been kind of hectic, with little time to write. Add to that a dash of writers' block, and you have a recipe for one really annoyed me and a two month wait. The next installment should be up sometime next month, so never fear. There's plenty of writing in me left!


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